THE SECOND APPENDIX.

A. Articles for government and order in the church; exhibited to be admitted by authority: but not allowed.
B. Theodore Beza to secretary Cecyl; shewing the present ill condition of the protestants in France.
C. Literae illustriss. domini Marci Antonii Amulii cardinalis, ad illustrissimos legatos concilii Tridentini, super professionem fidei patriarchae Assyriorum orientallum.
D. The emperor Ferdinand’s letter to queen Elizabeth: to allow papists one church in every city.
E. The queen’s answer to the emperor.
F. A discourse upon a motion in parliament for the queen’s declaring of the succession after her: viz. That the limitation of the succession of the crown should be to the queen’s majesty’s service.
G. Lady Anne Boleyn to Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury; for his grant of the benefice of Sundridge to Mr. Barlow.
H. Cox bishop of Ely to Bullinger; upon occasion of his answer to the pope’s bull against the queen.
I. A libellous letter out of Scotland of certain English papists; against some counsellots of queen Elizabeth. Manuscripts made use of in these Annals.

ANNALS OF THE REFORMATION OF RELIGION, UNDER QUEEN ELIZABETH.

CHAPTER 34.

Veron the preacher. Spital sermons. The oath of supremacy tendered to bishop Boner; with the process thereupon. Velsius, an enthusiast. Disturbs the Dutch congregations. His challenge of the Dutch ministers. Proceedings with him. VERON, a learned Frenchman, one of the eminentest preachers at this time, and a writer, who had been a confessor also under queen Mary, now rector of St. Martin’s, Ludgate, and prebendary of St. Paul’s, died the 9th of April, and was buried the day after, being Easter-eve.

Those that preached the celebrated Spital sermons this year were as followeth:

April the 12th, Easter Monday, preached Horn, bishop of Winton. At this sermon was declared the condition of the poor French protestants, that were fled into England for the persecution, among whom were many women and children: which raised such a compassion in the auditors, that there was collected for them 45l.

April the l3th, Easter Tuesday, Mr. Cole, rector of High Ongar in Essex, and archdeacon of Essex, preached.

April the 14th, Easter Wednesday, the dean of St. Paul’s preached. And, April the 18th, being Low Sunday, preached Bradborn, [Bradbridg, I suppose, it should be.] He declared the three sermons preached the week before at the Spital, according to custom. This Bradbridg was now, or not long after, the dean of Salisbury, and afterwards bishop of Exon, Ally being dead.

Upon the act aforementioned, empowering the bishops to tender the oath of supremacy to the ecclesiastics under their jurisdiction, Horn, bishop of Winton, intended to tender it to Boner, late bishop of London, now lying in the Marshal sea in Southwark, a place within his diocese. He was therefore brought before the bishop, or certain ecclesiastical officers of the said bishop, who required him to take the said oath. But Boner refused both the oath as unlawful, and the bishop himself, as not having power to administer it to him, being none of his diocesan, and indeed no diocesan at all, that is, no lawful bishop. Upon which a famous suit was commenced; at which an argument was learnedly held by great lawyers, whether the queen’s bishops were legal bishops, as other histories do relate.

A certificate of Boner’s refusal to take the oath was brought into the King’s Bench by the bishop of Winton’s chancellor; whereupon by the law he was to be indicted of a premunire. But Boner made several exceptions to the certificate, (which occasioned a suit in Michaelmas term, anno 6 & Eliz.) as that he was only styled therein doctor of laws, and in sacred orders, but neither clerk nor bishop. But that exception was not allowed in the court. Further, that the certificate was said to be carried into the court such a day and year by A. B. chancellor of the said bishop, but saith not, by the command of the bishop. But neither was that allowed. Thirdly, that he was indicted upon this certificate in the county of Middlesex by the common jury, and it ran, to inquire in the King’s Bench for the county of Middlesex. To which Boner pleaded, Not guilty; for he was in the county of Surrey. Whereupon a question was raised, by what county he should be tried, whether by a jury of Middlesex, or by a jury of Surrey, where the offence was committed. And it was resolved, that the inquiry should be by men of the county of Surrey, and of the neighbourhood of Southwark. For the indictment, mentioned in that act of 5 Eliz. extended to the indictment only, and leaves the trial to the common law, which appoints it to be where the offence is committed, as the lord Coke explained it. Fourthly, he excepted again, that Horn was not bishop of Winton, when he tendered him his oath, that is, not allowing him to be a bishop. Upon this there was much debate among the judges, in the lord chief justice Catlyn’s chamber, if Boner could give in evidence upon this issue, namely, that he was not guilty, because the bishop of Winton was not bishop in the time of his tendering the oath. And (as Dyer reports) it was resolved by all, that if the truth and matter be such in fact, Boner would come off. And therefore it was left to the jury to try it.

But after much dispute, to take away all doubt for the future, the present bishops were established by a law made in the eighth year of the queen, that is, in the year of our Lord 1565.

But to return to Boner, and to the beginning of this contention. When he was carried back from the bishop of Winton to the Marshalsea, these passages happened between him and the gazing people, who hated him mortally for his late cruelties, and were met in great multitudes to see him pass. One said to him, “The Lord confound thee, or else turn thy heart.”

To whom he answered, “The Lord send thee to keep thy breath to cool thy porridge.” To another saying, “The Lord overthrow thee,” he said, “The Lord make thee as wise as a woodcock.” Finally, a woman, wife to one Games, sometimes schoolmaster of the choristers in Magdalen college, kneeled down, and said “The Lord save thy life, bishop. I trust to see thee bishop of London again.” To whom he said, “God a mercy, good wife.”

And so passed to his lodging, where he had talk with a minister of the word of God about the supremacy. The bishop being by him both moved by reason and exhorted by doctrine to yield, gave neither ear nor credit, but answered him tauntingly, “By God, you are well learned.” To whom the minister said, “Where learned you, Mr. Bonet, to swear?” “I pray you,” said he, “did not Christ swear, Amen, amen, dico vobis?” “Why, that is well,” said the minister, “that you have some scripture for blasphemy, although you have none for popery.” With that he flung from him out of his chamber into the garden, desiring Mr. Keeper to command him out of the house, that so withstood him.

Upon the foresaid refusal of Boner, and upon his second declining to take the oath, according as the act directed, the bishop of Winchester certified him into the King’s Bench, as was said before. But Boner, against all the proceedings of the bishop, laid in his objections and exceptions in that and other courts. The rude draught whereof, wrote with his own hand, was as followeth verbatim. Objections layed in by Edmond Boner, clerck, against the processe, and all the doyngs, made eyther before Dr. Robert Horne, namyng hymself bishop of Winchester, and against the unlawful certificate given in by the same, in the Queen’s Bench; eyther before any other in the said Queen’s Bench, or elsewhere within this realm, concernyng the premisse, attempted [against] the said Edmond, by vertue of the surmysed statutes of a°. 1°. regni Elizabeth, or ao. 5o. of the same.

First , The said Edmond saith, protesting alway, that he intendeth nothing to say, attempt, or do against the queen’s most excellent majesty of this realm, in any wise by writing or otherwise, or her prerogatif, laws, statutes, or liberties, otherwise than may stand by good law, reason, and conscience, that he the said Edmond hath not ronne into any penalty, comprised in any of the said two statutes of anno primo et anno quinto of the said queen.

For that especially, both the said two statutes of anno primo et anno quinto of the said queen be not of strength, force, or power, to condempn the said Edmond; both for that the same statutes ought to have had the consent of the lords spiritual and temporal, and also the consent of the commons in that parliament assembled: and also, for that the said Edmond was not convented or called herein before a lawful bishop, or competent judge, such as might require any such oath enjoined in eyther of the said statutes; neyther the said Edmond in law or conscience bound in any wise to give the said oath, which hath not his due companions, judicium, justitiam, et veritatem: nor could be given by the said Edmond, but by the death and loss of his own soul, and the danger and losse of divers other mens souls, of whom he hath care and charge of.

Item , That the said Mr. Robert Horne, not being lawful bishop of Winchester, but an usurper, intruder, and unlawful possessioner thereof; as well for that according to the laws of the Catholic church, and the statutes and ordinances of this realm, the said Mr. Robert Horne was not elected, consecrated, or provided, as also according to the canons of the Catholic church he, the said Mr. Robert Horne, came not to the same dignity, or was eligible to the same; but as a person infamed, unworthy, and utterly unmeet for the same, did take upon him the said office, most worthy to be repelled from the same.

Item , That the said Mr. Robert Horne, conspiring with other schismatical bishops of this realm, did by sundry and unlawful means go about at sundry times to put the said Edmond both in extreme and certain danger of his life, and also of loosing of all his lyving and goods.

Item , That the said Mr. Robert Horne, forgetting his own souls helth, and following the sensualitie of his own mynde, of late did make an unlawful, untrew, and false certiffcate, into the quenes majesties bench, surmysing the said Edmond peremptorily and obstinately to have refused to give the said oath, required in the said statute of anno primo et anno quinto. Wheras he the said Edmond so did not; but alledged, that he was not bound to give the said oath, for reasonable causes, then and above also expressed.

Other exceptions, which the aforesaid Boner made against the bishop of Winchester’s proceedings with him, in the court where he was indicted, were these:

The summons of the said defendent concerning his appearance was not good, nor agreeable to the laws and statutes of this realm.

Item , The inditement is not good and right, because that the matter, whereupon the inditement is grounded, will not bear the inditement: which maketh a great fault to be in the defendent refusing the oath. Which the said defendent in his conscience and lerning thinketh he ought not to give: forasmuch as he cannot give it without committing of deadly sin.

Item , Concerning the special oath, the defendent saith, that the said oath, like as all other oaths, ought to have three companions, appointed in scripture to be veritas, judicium, et justitia. And seeing that this oath hath not these three companions, the defendent pleadeth that he ought not to ronne into any penalty at all.

Item , That this oath hath not the said three companions, it appeareth manifestly, for that the said defendent, if he should give it, he should do first against veritie and commit falsity. And also should do against judgment; whereby is here to understand discretion. And also he should not observe justice, which giveth to God and to every thing their due right. In consideration whereof, and that the quenes majestic (whom almighty God long preserve) myndeth not her subjects to ronne into perjury, but to keep to their conscience and bounden duty; this defendent firmly believeth, that her said majesty being truly informed of the truth herein, which he is able to justify, will not be in any wise offended.

Item , The statute of anno quinto saith, that the oath shall be promoted in open place, where there shall be a convenient assembly of people to witness the same. And in the inditement there is no mention made of the oath offered before any assembly of people.

Item , That Dr. Horne is no lawful bishop, neyther concerning the tendering of the said oath, nor other things foresaid, nor exercise of other ecclesiastical office; for many causes, and especially for that he the said Dr. Horne was not lawfully consecrated, according to the laws and statutes of this realm: especially the statute of 25 of Henry VIII. cap. 20; where in effect is required, that he that is to be consecrated must, among other things, have one archbishop and two bishops, or else four bishops, at the consecration. Which the said Dr. Horne had not.

Item , That the said Dr. Horne, by reason of the premisses, and that he hath not duly certified according to the statute of anno quinto: and over that, the said Dr. Horne hath without warrant, commission, or authority, called the said defendent out of the quenes majesties prison of the Marshalsea in Southwark, putting the said defendent in manifest and notorious danger of his life many ways, and especially by reason of the naughty and unruly multitude, which the said Dr. Horne and his complices, purposely of malice, had caused then and there in the streets riotously to be assembled, and by them and their bedle to be thereof advertised; and then and there to cry out wonder, and make exclamation against the said defendent, and them dangerously to use and advertise against all good order, and law, and reason: and moreover, for that the said Dr. Horne, without warrant, commission, or authority, did return the said defendent again in the Marshalsea foresaid, and put the said defendent in danger of his life, and to great costs and losses: therefore the said defendent most humbly beseecheth this honourable court, first for the quenes majesties honour and advantage, the said Dr. Horne to be called to answer before your honours for his wilful, heady, and lewd enterprize; and to graunt to the said defendent liberty and licence to sue him and his complices, for the manifest outrages, injuries, [and dammages,] attempted and done against the said defendent.

A part of another of Boner’s declarations in his own behalf ran thus: Item, That where there was much adoe to frame the act, Doctor Horne sometime inditing it, the scribe writing it; and by and by smiting it out by his commandment, I the said Edmond told unto them, saying, “If you cannot make your act your selves, let me help you. And it shall do weh in my opinion if in the first place [you write] your own sayings and doings, and then write mine.” Which thing with much adoe being agreed upon, and the writing left with the scribe, which doth declare all the whole matter, I departed thence, and afterwards divers times did send to William Bydell, the scribe, to have a true copy thereof; and in no wise could get it.

Item , That by the said premisses it cloth appear, that I the said Edmond made no such precise, peremptory, or obstinate refusal, as is certified in this behalf. And therefore neither the certificate brought herein, nor the indictment proceeding thereupon, are to be credenced, nor to be taken for good and lawful, but clerely to be rejected and cast away. And the said Dr. Horne, for his unlawful doings herein, to be duely punished, and from the dignitie of the bishopric of Winchester, as an intruder, usurper, and unlawful possessioner, to be excluded and rejected; especially, being a notorious lecher, advouterer, schismatike, and heretike, and in no wise a lawful bishop, especially to exact any such oath, or to make such certificate, as is before mentioned.

All this scandal, trouble, and disturbance had this good bishop, in venturing to be so hardy as to meddle with such a man as Boner was.

Another troubler of the peace of the church, though of a quite different strain from the former, this year also arose, and appeared in London, namely, one Justus Velsius, a foreigner of the Hague. He was a man of learning, but a great enthusiast, pretending much to the Spirit, and to great illuminations, a foreteller of God’s wrath at hand, and a discoverer of errors and heresies. This man, being one Thursday in March at a prophecy, (as it was called,) in the Dutch church in London, where Nicolas, one of the ministers, preached upon the doctrine of regeneration, stood up, and contradicted him, as delivering false doctrine, nay, many gross errors and heresies concerning this point of religion; and in fine, made a challenge to the said Nicolas, and Peter De Loene, the other Dutch minister, to dispute on this argument with them the Thursday ensuing. And the account of this enterprise of his he thought fit to write to the secretary; telling him, “That he was present, and heard the said Nicolas discoursing concerning the regeneration of man, as a blind man of colours, introducing he knew not what monsters of heresies, and withdrawing from the people the true doctrine of regeneration, and bringing in certain false doctrines in the room of it, surpassing the absurdities of all heresies. Yet he keeping a temper, followed the counsel of Dionysius Areopagita, and thought not fit to contend against him with manifold gainsayings, which would have been a long business, and of no great use; but in simple words he had plainly laid down the very truth concerning regeneration, confirmed by scripture. But that they with much bitterness recompensed his kindness and goodwill, and with jeers and reproaches, the property of such men to do: insomuch that all good and moderate men, even of their own flock, grieved and complained of it. That he therefore, perceiving by the Spirit of God, that now the time was come, wherein Christ would work by him the salvation of men, and demolish the enemies power, he had challenged these ministers, these spots and blemishes, sporting in their own errors, to the said contest. And this challenge he advised the secretary to give the queen notice of; that she might send whom she would of her seevants, who might not only be present, and witnesses, at this contest, but also endeavour that all things (as God willed and desired) might be done orderly, and without all tumult: and that she would not endeavour to hinder it by any means, unless she, taking up arms against the invincible God and Christ, had a mind suddenly to perish with those figliters against God and figliters against Christ.” This was written in Latin, March the 20th, 1563.

The challenge abovesaid he soon drew up in a form, and published it abroad, and enclosed it in his former letter. “Since according to Paul in these our last days, there be many men (alas!) who, being blinded with the love of themselves, attribute much to themselves, being arrogant, proud, evil speakers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, wicked, wanting the affection of charity, truce-breakers, slanderers, &c. whom Paul biddeth to avoid; and of this number are Peter de Loene and Nicolas, who give out themselves for the ministers of the church of the German congregation in London; who as Jannes and Jambres withstood Moses, so do they resist the truth, denying by the spirit of Antichrist the force of the coming of Jesus Christ in the flesh, who therefore appeared, that he might demolish the works of the Devil; that is, that adulterous stamp and coin, to wit, original sin, which he [the Devil] impressed upon men, and from man himself [Christ in the flesh] he might receive the true coin of God, impressing upon him the image of the new and heavenly man. “I, by the Spirit of God, whom to resist is an horrible thing, for the asserting of the glory of Jesus Christ our Saviour, (which those false apostles, deceitful workers, in whom Satan transfigureth himself into an angel of light, endeavour to take away from him,) am come hither, that I may publicly resist these very persons in the power of our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore we make known to every one, because the kingdom of God doth not consist in word but in power, that we challenge those same Peter de Loene and Nicolas, slanderers of the truth of Christ and God, the next Thursday, the 25th of March, not to an empty strife of words, but to the demonstration of the Spirit and power. That so as I assert, either their false and devilish doctrine, or rather our true and divine doctrine, be confirmed by signs, which the eternal truth of God, which cannot lie, hath promised, shall follow those that truly believe. “And because they now of a long time, according to their lusts, have urged much false doctrine, persecuting Christ in his members, there are many (for not these two alone, but others also with them, defend this false doctrine,) whom they may assume their alders, and so as the false prophets of Baal, do multiply and heap up to themselves, I being alone, but joined to Christ, it is very agreeable to reason, and equal, that they first join themselves to this touchstone, and declare of what sort they are; afterwards, when they shall be found reprobate silver, and cast away by the Lord, then the grace of God shall be revealed, what kind of treasure we carry about in this earthen vessel, that it may be the abundance of the power of God, and be ascribed to him, and not to us; to whom all glory and honour is due for ever and ever. Amen.”

By this challenge it seems, that which gave this Velsius offence was the Dutch ministers’ assertion of original sin, utterly denied by the sect of Dutch anabaptists, of which sort this man I suppose was. And it is remarkable, so heated was the fancy of this sectary, that in this challenge he seemed to promise some signs and miracles to accompany his disputation, for the confirming of the pretended truth he should defend against these Dutch ministers.

I will relate another exploit of this conceited man. It was but a few days before this happened, that, as though it were by some inspiration, he required the abovesaid De Loene to put his whole congregation upon entering into a second covenant with God, (baptism, their first, being broken,) and enjoining him to propose it to them accordingly for their salvation. But the said De Loene not complying with this proposal, Velsius took upon him, as one having some extraordinary authority from God, as St. Paul had, to anathematize him in that apostle’s words.

The renewing and restauration of the dissolved covenant, as Velsius entitled it, to be propounded to the congregation, ran in these words: “Because in the initiation of baptism we stuck not to the abrenunciations and sponsions made for us, but by intolerable breach of faith, turning away from Christ, and the life of God, as children of disobedience, we fell off wholly from them, again as dogs returning to their own vomit, and swine washed to their wallowing in the mire, being conformed to our former lusts in ignorance, doing the will of the flesh and of our thoughts, walking, as other nations which know not God, in the vanity of the mind, loving the world, and the things of the world, the lust of the flesh, the last of the eyes, and the pride of life, and giving heed to spirits, impostors, and doctrines of devils;which fill the soul with knowledge that puffeth up, envy and contention, and putting away a good conscience; have made shipwrack concerning faith, wandering from the simplicity which is in Christ: therefore, with the lost son, coming to ourselves, desiring to bring forth fruit worthy of true repentance, we do this day renounce wholly the Devil, and all his suggestions, the world with all its pomps; and also ourselves, and the vanity of our minds, and our carnal cogitations and lusts, with a firm purpose of never returning to them again. To Christ also and to God we give our names, to do henceforth according to his sayings, precepts, and laws, to be put into our minds, and to be written upon our hearts by the goodness and grace of him, and the communication and leading of the Holy Ghost, all our whole life according to our strength. To the eternal Father we religously promise and vow these things, from a pure heart, a good conscience, and faith unfeigned; by this aid and help, without which we can do nothing ourselves, as of ourselves. This we know, acknowledge, and confess, imploring that thou wouldest vouchsafe in us these very things in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, by that holy and sanctifying Spirit. Amen.”

The letter he wrote to the Dutch minister aforesaid, to propose this covenant to his congregation, may deserve also to be taken notice of, which was as follows: “My friend, whom I love with a pure heart in Christ Jesus, and whose salvation I do not less desire to further than mine own. How long at last will you so miserably deceive yourself and all others, and draw them with yourself into eternal perdition? For who is not ready again to renew and enter into this covenant with God and Christ, and firmly to adhere to it, whence (as every one ought at this day to acknowledge) he is fallen? Ready, I say, to enter into this covenant after the manner as it is here propounded from the holy scriptures; without which he is neither a Christian, nor can at any time ever be. And for that cause, convert yourselves; be converted, I say, before it be too late, from your evil ways, and yield your ears to truth, which Christ by his unspeakable mercy hath sealed in us, and is ready to confirm the same by signs (set down in the last chapter of Mark) of those that truly believe. To which I, because the righteousness of God consisteth not in word but in power, challenge all the adversaries of truth, to the praise and glory of the omnipotent God, and the salvation of all men. Amen.”

But De Loene thought not good to follow this conceit of Velsius, and delayed the offering of this new covenant of his drawing up, to his flock: whereupon he exerted his pretended plenary power, and published a writing, solemnly denouncing his anathema against the said preacher in these words: “To the hand of him to whomsoever this writing shall come.

Since he suppresseth it,” [i.e. the renewing of the dissolved covenant,] “and proposeth it not presently, and at this very day, to the whole congregation of Lower Germany; let the indignation of God be upon him; and in the power of our Lord Jesus Christ, let him be delivered to Satan, to the destruction of his flesh, that the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus.

Velsius also about this time wrote a letter to a French ambassador then in London, foretelling therein what terrible judgments (which he said were already begun, i.e. by war and plague) God was bringing upon them for their obstinacy: and bade him know for certain, that God had revealed to him, by his Spirit, that they were inwardly possessed by Satan; because (as it seems) he had not listened unto some propositions that he had made to him and his nation about religion.

He wrote also to queen Elizabeth, and dealt as freely, in a long letter, with her, telling her, that he had writ to her for her own safety, and the safety of her kingdom: and that the Spirit of Christ compelled him to write, and to propose before her and the nobles of the kingdom, a norma recti judicii, i.e. a rule of right judgment; which he sent to her, to be embraced and professed by all her people. It was a paper of his own drawing up, consisting of several articles of doctrine, by way. of question and answer, wherein were some very odd notions: as, that “a Christian is made by participation and grace that which Christ was of himself and by nature, namely, first, God in man, and then Man-God.”

In the year 1556 he held a dispute at Frankfort with one Horne, who appeared in behalf of Calvin’s doctrine for absolute predestination, and against free-will: and him he called ambitionis et kenodoxi>av vilissimum mancipium, i.e. a most vile slave of ambition and vainglory. He asserted, that he that was born again might not sin, and in effect could not sin, that is, if he remained in the grace of regeneration.

To conclude concerning this man: he was brought before the ecclesiastical commissioners; and at length two of them, viz. the bishop of London and the bishop of Winchester, forbade him the kingdom; and that by the queen’s authority. This he took notice of in the end of his letter to the queen: but that it should be by her authority, he said, he could not be induced to believe; having been by them commanded to depart hence for no other cause than for the true confession, which the queen had heard, and for his endeavour of setting on foot a more pure life, by the leading of the Spirit of God. And that therefore he could not obey them, since God himself had confirmed his vocation here by an open miracle of Cosmus: who was a madman, and lately put into Bethlem: which madness Velsius fancied he had inflicted on him as a judgment; saying, he was possessed by the Devil.

CHAPTER 35.

The bishop of Worcester’s vindication of himself against Sir John Bourne before the privy council. Bourne’s imprisonment and submission.

DR. Edwin Sandys, who deserved well of religion, and suffered for it, now bishop of Worcester, had a great enemy in that city, namely, sir John Bourne, knight, the late queen Mary’s principal secretary of state. He was high steward of that church of Worcester, and a beneficiary thereof: and, however an enemy he was to the religion reformed, yet he resorted to his parish church for the most part daily, (as he asserted himself to the privy council,) ever since Sandys’ coming to the diocese, and yet was reported to have mass said at his house: and he came now and then to the bishop’s table, who treated him civilly. But Bourne, notwithstanding, had an angry stomach against the bishop, which at length appeared more openly; when upon some pretended ill treatment of him from the bishop and his folks, he wrote letters to the privy council, complaining of him by way of information: which the bishop by word of mouth before the council, Bourne himself being present, answered so clearly and satisfactorily, that his accusations appeared to be unjust, false, and scandalous. He wrote also a very rude letter to the bishop, and received a reprimand from the council for the same.

But Bourne ceased not; but again sent to the council a writing, which he called a declaration of the matters wherein the bishop of Worcester had vindicated himself before the council. In this declaration, consisting in thirteen articles, he laboured to reply upon what the bishop had said. It was writ superciliously and spitefully, and slanderously upon that grave father’s assertions, sermons, and person. “As, that he had thought himself ill entreated by his lordship, the bishop, and his folks; and thereby sore provoked he wrote that letter to the bishop, [which their honours had seen,] for which he had received correction and rebuke from them. That his lordship said, that being in prison in the Tower for religion, he understood that he [sir J. Bourne] was his enemy so much, that where queen Mary was inclined to pardon and release him of his fault, he fell on his knees before her, beseeching her grace to stay, saying, he was the greatest heretic in Cambridge, whereby he remained in great danger of his life, till God delivered him” To this sir John Bourne said, “That he was not sent to the Tower, (as the bishop had said,) but to the Marshalsea, and remained there, not for religion, but for treason. That in his sermon which he made at Cambridge, when the duke of Northumberland came down thither upon the lady Jane’s business, being neither commanded by the nobility or the university, and without the advice of the learned men there, he touched the births of queen Elizabeth, and her late noble sister, and pronounced thereof that which became him not. That he never knew queen Mary intended his pardon: if she did, he never laboured the contrary. That corrupt labour was made for his deliverance under queen Mary, to which he [Bourne, then secretary] assented not; and when he was discharged he knew not, but sure he was there was no plain order for it; and that he had heard, he conveyed himself away by breaking prison with the aid of sir Thomas Holcroft or his man.

That customably in the bishop’s talk he termed queen Mary, plain Mary, or Mary Marral, Bloody Mary, and Drunken Mary; and that, as a token of her clemency, she was drunk the same night she granted his pardon. That out of displeasure to Bourne, he removed two servants from his service (one put to him by one of the honourable board, and the other had served the lady Chandois) for no quarrel, but that one had served him, and the other he had praised, as being of his acquaintance: and had received two more into his service, whom he [Bourne] had removed from him. That the bishop had charged him to have mass commonly said in his house; which he denied he had: and that he called priests’ wives, whores: and that when he was at the bishop’s table, he seemed to be displeased with him for drinking to his wife, (whom Bourne gave this character of, that she was fair, wellnurtured, sober, and demure, so far as he had seen,) and for calling her lady: whereat (said Bourne) he chafed, and said he mocked both him and her.

Bourne added, that he frequented his parish church for the more part daily ever since the bishop’s coming to his diocese: and verily believed he had been there more often for the quarter than his lordship in his cathedral church, or in any other in one year, of any intent to pray. That in a sermon of the bishop’s about matrimony and the virgin state, he had said, that there was no imparity, but the vow and dignity of both was equal, and equally seemed in the sight of God. That indeed he praised both estates well. That he affirmed all contracts and bargains of matrimony to be damnable, and of no validity, made privately and without consent of parents; alleging Evaristus for that purpose. That concerning virginity and the single life, he handled the case so finely, that to his thinking, if he should have believed him, he could not find three good virgins since Christ’s time. And that so he left the matter with an exhortation to all to marry, marry. Further, that he said in that sermon, that singleliving men, that is to say, unmarried, and especially unmarried priests, lived naught. And that there in the city were lately presented five or six unmarried priests, that kept five or six whores apiece; though there were not above four unmarried priests in the city in all. That not one of them had purged himself of that crime whereof he was detected, nor had fulfilled any public penance, or private, as he guessed. And he had learned the law to be, that the ordinary should keep the detection secret till the party were called to answer; nor was the party openly in the pulpit to be traduced, till the visitor should call him to answer, were he lay or spiritual person. “Then Bourne spake of the church of Worcester, whereof he was high steward and a beneficiary: and then of the covetousness of those spiritual persons belonging to it that were married; and how they did dispense the lands and goods of holy church to them committed where he dwelt. That in the bishop’s visitation he had commanded the altar-stone in sir J. B’s parish church to be pulled down and defaced. And whereas the bishop had said, sir J. B. had commanded the contrary, and that it should not be broken nor defaced, but reserved; and in contempt of him caused it to be borne out of the church, and carried home to his house; sir John said, it was untrue, for the altar was taken down, as he said, a year before he came to the church, and was reserved and laid aside toward the paving of one isle of the said church; and bestowed in the paving thereof accordingly, and never brought to his house, nor carried out of the church. “Bourne had also charged the bishop with phrensy: and that he heard this first by report of the duke of Northumberland, he being present at his examination in the Tower. Which duke, being then charged that he should cause the said bishop [then Dr. Sandys] to make that sermon at Cambridge, for which he was committed to the Marshalsea, had said for answer, that he was so much offended with the said sermon, that no one thing offended him more: and further said, he was once minded to have punished him for example, till for excuse, he learned, that he was once out of his wits, and beside himself for love, or some such other matter: which his infirmity, Bourne added, he had heard from others.”

Of these and many other particulars did Bourne’s said declaration consist.

To this calumniatory writing the bishop was not silent; nor would his own care of his reputation in the church suffer him, but answered this declaration in two or three sheets of paper, offered to the council. To which answer was added the blazon of his coat of arms, signed by Will.

Harvey Clarenceux; wherein it appeared he was sprung of an ancient genteel family in St. Bees in Cumberland, against the slander of the said Sir John Bourne, that he was no gentleman.

Now because the reputation of so eminent a father in our church, and of whom so much use was made in reforming of corrupt religion, and settling the church of England in the beginning of queen Elizabeth’s reign, might be cleared from the calumnies of his enemies; I shall here set down this bishop’s vindication of himself against this gentleman, which the said bishop sent to the privy council, and his letter with it. His letter ran to this tenor: “Where, at such time as sir John Bourne and I were before your honours, there was declared unto me by your honours the substance of an information, which the said sir John had made to your honours against me; whereunto I prayed leave that I might presently answer: and having licence of your honours, briefly and truly answered the most part thereof accordingly. And thereupon your honours did order, that the said sir John should article in writing all such matters of his information as he had to charge me with; and that I afterward should in writing answer the same; and further object against him: it now plainly appeareth by his book of articles, that the said sir John doth not use his articles by way of information according to the said order, but by way of answer unto that which I spake before your honours. And because he taketh upon him to report that in writing which I uttered by mouth, and so to answer: and in his said report doth far alter the tale which I told; and so hath answered in many places that which by me was never objected but by himself: I am constrained, first, briefly to iterate my said tale uttered before your honours, to the intent to put your honours in remembrance of the truth thereof; and to shew you likewise how far the said sir John mistaketh and misreporteth the same. And because his articles, which he useth by name of an answer to me, are rather in themselves a new accusation, I will truly answer to the substance of the same: and where he doth charge me and mine in his said articles with many and sundry great and heinous crimes, misbehaviours, and defaults; wherein, if he should say trouthe, I were far unmeet the office and rome wherein the queen’s majesty hath placed me; so if his sayings shall appear to be vain, and not true, (as they be most untrue,) and many of them devised by himself, and of his malice, not only borne towards me, but also towards all that preach the doctrine of the gospel, as I do: then are they such an heavy burden of slander wrongfully laid upon me, so much to the discredit of me unto your honours, the defacing of my preaching, and hinderance of the execution of my office; that I shall most humbly beseech your honours, that he may at the least openly deny them with the same tongue, or by like writing, as he hath most slanderously, maliciously, and untruly uttered them.”

Then followed the bishop’s paper, viz. The repetition of my answer made before your honours in such matters, as sir John Bourne had laid to my charge before the same. “I most humbly thank your honours, that it will please you to give me leave to answer for myself. I being prisoner in the Tower, suit was made to queen Mary and the privy council for my enlargement: and it was reported unto me, the bill of my delivery was allowed by the privy council, and sent up in the docket to be assigned by the queen. When it came thereunto, sir John Bourne hindered that bill, by reporting what my father was; what my brother was; and how that I was the greatest heretic in Cambridge, and a corrupter of the university. And so I was stayed until it pleased God to deliver me, as may now appear. This displeasure long since I had east out of my mind, and freely forgiven; whereof God will bear me witness. “At my coming to Worcester, sir John Bourne resorted unto me twice or thrice, whom I entertained so friendly as I could; minding that way to win his favour, and conform his opinion in religion.

And although I was informed by divers honest men of the city, that he had mass in his house, which his fool could openly report, and was otherways diversely bruited and suspected; and moreover in reasoning with me, and in defending transubstantiation, reproving Peter Martyr’s book, he protested he would never be of my religion. And where I directed forth process for a widow, whom his brother Thomas Bourne, having wife and children of his own, had gotten with child, being a woman before in honest name, and having a good living, sir John Bourne hindered the sending forth the said process; shewing my register that he would take upon him to satisfy me in that behalf, as my register did and will testify. And whereas I commanded an altarstone in his church to be broken according to the queen’s majesty’s injunctions; and resorting thither to preach, I asked the churchwardens whether they had so done or no. They answered, that sir John’s man had carried it away into his house; and they could not have it, nor break it. Also, in a sermon that I made at a marriage, shewing how fit and necessary it was that children should not contract without the consent of their parents, bringing the saying of Evaristus, a bishop of Rome, Matrimonia tunc sunt, cum expetuntur a parentibus; alioqui non matrimonia, sed stupra sunt; i.e. Marriage is that which is sought by parents; otherwise it is not marriage, but whoredom. This doctrine sir John depraved; labouring thereby to discredit my preaching. “Besides, I sending for divers of his parish, to detect faults and disorders in my visitation, he detained them back, and would not suffer to come. All these displeasures and inconveniences I suffered, lest I should seem to revenge old displeasure, and to work upon affection. “But the cause of his chief grief towards me rose upon this occasion. Two ministers’ wives, who be both honest and sober, (the one a gentlewoman,) were going over Severn in their own boat. My lady Bourn, her eldest son, and divers servants, entered into the boat. Sir John Bourne’s eldest son, blaspheming and swearing, said, Now you are among papists. As for you, Mrs.

Avyce, you are a shrew. And, Mrs. Wilson, your husband is a good fellow: ye can want no help; if ye do, send for me. It is no mervail if sir John Bourne’s son use such talk; for he himself calleth ministers’ wives whores. One of the serving men rushed on Mrs. Avyce’s shoulders with his buckler, and tear her coat almost a foot long, and pierced unto the skin, and hurt her; and put them both in great fear. Upon this occasion a servant of mine, being cousin to Mrs.

Wilson, as he reported, was offended, and meeting with one Jones, sir John Bournds servant asked him, Is not thy name Jones? Yea, said he, what wouldest thou with that? Marry, thou art a knave, and hast abused a gentlewoman, a friend of mine. Whereupon they drew their weapons, and my man smote the sword out of his hand at the first blow. After, bade him take it up again, saying, I might kill thee if I would: but fight, if thou darest. My brother, being my receiver, going on hunting with others, came and ended the fray.

This servant is called Kilkow, although supposed to be a coward: for his master going in the streets of Worcester, a serving man met him, and forgat to put off his cap: whereupon sir John Bourne called him knave: and this his man, (as should appear and was reported,) at his commandment, went and found the serving man in a shop, and cometh behind him and smiteth him, that he was in great danger of death hereby. Anthony Bourne, son and heir of sir John Bourne, offended herewithal, sent his sword to the cutlers, to make it sharp; and came soon after himself, with three or four men, near unto my palace gates, and called, Where be the bishops boys?

Tell them that Anthony Bourne is come. Hereupon my men went forth, and they buckled together with their weapons, and had made a fray upon my men, if the bailiff had not parted them, I being in my consistory all the while. At the length making an end of matters, and repairing home into my house, having but one man left with me, coming into my palace, my porter seemed to be troubled: and I asked what the matter was? Said he, Anthony Bourne and divers of his father’s servants called out your men to fight with them.

Whereupon I hasted to the street, where I found them newly set asunder. I went with the bailiffs into the town-house, where the parties were also called. I required the bailifts, that if any of my men had offended, to punish them most extremely, to the example of all others: and when they had done, I would expel them my house. But as for young Mr. Bourne, use your discretion. And so I departed, leaving the examination to the bailifts. And of any quarrel between my men and sir John Bourne’s men before that, of my honesty I never knew nor heard. And of all this I minded never to have complained. “Within two days after, I having occasion rode to Ludlow, to my lord president, [sir Henry Sidney.] And he asked of Worcester matters. I told him of the disorder that was like to have been at Worcester. Whereupon he wrote to the bailiffs to examine the matter truly, and to send unto him the examination. Which they did.

Anthony Bourne, with some others, was sent for by letters: and he, after sharp rebuke, was bound to the peace against me and all my folks. Whereupon it may appear where the fault was. All this notwithstanding, when I perceived that sir John Bourne a little before Christmas came into the country, with my lady his wife, and minded not to keep house, I required my chancellor, who is his friend, to tell sir John, that if he and my lady his wife would keep Christmas with me, they should be welcome. “After I had received a commission from your honours, directed to me, sir Thomas Russel, Mr. Blount, Mr. Hawks, and Mr. Foliot, for the disorder made at St. John’s by Thomas Bourne and others, as we were together reading the same, and directing forth precepts for the parties to appear, sir John Bourne sent me a letter, which your lordships have seen. I read it presently to the said commissioners, and immediately after sent my man to sir John Bourne, who was in the city, praying him to dine with me. As they all misliked the letter, so they mervailed I would send for him. He refused to come: if he had come, truly I had cast the letter into the fire. “And these be the dealings which have been between sir John Bourne and me.

Hitherto I have not accused him; for I take that to be the worst part. Neither will I, except I be commanded; although I have to say against him such matters which I would be loath to utter. “This was my whole talk. I minded to have answered certain objections against me, made by sir John Bourne, concerning his brother, Mr. Arden, Mr. Norfolk, Mr. Cecil, and certain whom he termed his servants: but that with kneeling down, and crying, All was false I had said, he interrupted me. And your honours, being long troubled with our talk, ordered that we should article in writing.”

This was the bishop’s speech to the privy council. Then followeth his answer to sir John Bourne’s declaration. Which being very long, I was in some suspense about inserting it, inclining to abbreviate or wave it wholly: but considering how many notable historical remarks there will be found in it, of matters relating to religion and the state of men and things in those times, and proper to illustrate the life, spirit, and acts of this worthy bishop, and vindicate one of our chief reformers, and withal to preserve an authentic paper of state; I will take the pains to transcribe it, and hope the reader will find it worth his time to peruse it.

An answer to the declaration of sir John Bourne, knight, which he hath made to my answer uttered before your honours. The said declaration being indeed a new and untrue accusation.

First, The said sir John Bourne misreporteth my words uttered before your honours, as may appear by my repetition thereof now made in writing according to the truth, as I trust ye do remember.

To the first article which he nameth I answer. I say that every sentence in the same contained is most vain and untrue: and he proceedeth against me maliciously, with manifest untruth in the residue of his book.

The said sir John saith, that I was not prisoner in the Tower. I answer, that I was there prisoner under the custody of sir Edward Warner and sir John Brudges, knights, lieutenants of the said Tower, twenty-nine weeks. Some of your honours know I say truth, and did see me there. Immediately before Mr. Wyat’s apprehension, I was by order removed into the Marshalsea.

Further, he saith, I was in the Marshalsea for treason. I answer, that I neither was, nor by the law could at any time be charged with treason: for the matter objected against me was, for words uttered in my sermon at Cambridge: which were not within the compass of any law of treason.

He saith likewise, I made a sermon at Cambridge, (for which I was imprisoned,) not commanded by the nobility or the university, and without the advice of the learned men there. I answer to that, that the duke’s grace of Northumberland, and others of the council then there, both commanded me, and gave me instructions. Divers of the masters and heads of the colleges both conferred with me, and consented to my doings, which were not in such sort as malice hath reported them.

He moreover saith, that I spake that which became me not, of the birth of the queen’s majesty that now is. Thereunto I answer, that I neither spake of her birth, nor made any mention of her highness in my said sermon; saving only that according to my bounden duty I prayed for her, as I have already sufficiently declared before the queen’s majesty, and to some of this honourable board, in that behalf: and yet am not to prove the same by good and certain testimony:

He saith also, that he never hindered my pardon. Truth it is, my friends never sued for my pardon, but only for my delivery and discharge of imprisonment: which he a great while by untrue and unhonest surmises stayed; as sir Tho. Holcroft and others, then suitors for the same, reported to my friends.

He furthermore saith, that corrupted means were used for my delivery; and that he is sure that I was discharged by no plain order; and as he heard say, I conveyed myself away by breaking of prison, with the aid of sir Tho.

Holcroft or his men. I answer, that I never promised nor assented to give, or that any of my friends should give for my deliverance, any one groat. I was delivered by queen Mary’s warrant, signed with her own hand, and subscribed with the hands of divers of her privy council, as the bishop of Winchester, then lord chancellor of England, the right honourable the earl of Pembroke, my lord Hastings of Loughborough, then master of her highness’s horse, and others. I had also the said council’s several letters directed to the sheriff of Westmerland, to the bishop of Peterborough, and to the vice-chancellor of Cambridge; commanding them to restore my goods which they had seized. That I brake not prison, Mr. Waye, yet keeper of the said Marshalsea, who brought me forth of the same by the authority aforesaid, and set me at liberty, can well testify.

Where he chargeth me with many foul and unfitting terms spoken by me of queen Mary, when I used to make mention of my pardon, (which I could not do, because I never had any of her;) as the assertion is most untrue and odious, so shall he never be able to prove it. And thus may your honours evidently perceive the great impudency of my accuser, and the manifest untruth of this accusation; and that in every sentence of this article.

In the second article he misreporteth my words uttered before your honours. Yet for answer to his arguments of displeasure, I do not remember that any of this honourable body ever put any servant to me, nor that I put away any such servant. At the request of my lord Grey of Wilton, I received one Colyng, who had served the lady Chandos: whom for brawling with one of his fellows, named Adam Twidall, and giving him a blow, I discharged out of my service, according to certain orders prescribed and kept within my house. That he praised any to me, or that this Colyng was ever his servant, truly I cannot remember. One Dyer served me, till I heard an evil report of his life; but that he ever served sir John Bourne, before now I never heard. Davys being discharged of sir John Bourne’s service, offered his service to the steward of my house; who being received into the stable upon further liking, and misliking, his labour, my steward discharged him again. John Fisher hath been servant to sir John Bourne; and by surviving his father, with whom he was joined in a copy and a patent, is now my tenant, and my bailiff and woodward of my manor of Hallowe and Grymley. And because there is some controversy between sir John and me, for certain tenements or rents, parcel of my said manor of Grimley, my officers thought he could not truly serve us both; and thereupon required him to leave sir John’s service, and to serve me, or else to take the fee, and to leave the execution of the office to some other honest man during the time of the said controversy.

Touching Mr. Thomas Cecil, being a man in his youth well brought up in learning, and also in good religion in Cambridge; and after that, serving Mr. Goodrick; because he obtained not his purpose in a suit, he upon displeasure departed from Mr. Goodrick, and revolted in religion, as I heard it credibly reported. Coming to Worcester, he hath shewed himself a most obstinate papist, and adversary to the gospel; and hath there professed and practised both the temporal and spiritual law, being sufficiently instructed in neither: wherefore, and for his frivolous delays and unhonest shifts daily by him used in defence of evil causes, being, charged therewith by me, by my chancellor I discharged him of my consistorycourt.

And for these causes only, and for no respect of sir John Bourne’s familiarity with him, I so did. The like before removed the same Thomas Cecil out of Bristow, as I was then credibly informed. He is brought in here for his name’s sake, not for his virtue sake.

Mr. Bourne may allege the like arguments as these, of my displeasure; for that I deprived Arden and Northfolk, two obstinate papists; and for that I have punished many notorious offenders: whereof many be of his acquaintance and great familiarity, and as it is said, the more stubborn by his supportation. For answer to the third article, I say, that my lenity and softness was such, that as I was not willing to touch him, so I laid not watch for his doings, which I might easily have found out, if I had used diligence therein according to my duty. But it is very true, that it was commonly bruited in Worcester, and yet is, (and that of honest men,) that he had mass in his house divers times after my coming into the country; and his fool spake it: and fools often speak as truly as they who would seem to be wise.

To the fourth article, where he saith, that I charged him before your honours, that he favoured not priests’ marriages; how untrue it is, your honours can remember; and likewise for his not coming to the church.

These are his own, because he hath pleasure to talk in them. So likewise much of the rest was not spoken by me. But to answer his article.

He saith, he hath been oftener at the church than I; for the intent to pray.

He setteth forth so much his own holiness, and so much chargeth me with want and negligence of my duty, that he forceth me to speak that which otherwise I would not utter. I may safely thus much say, that there hath not six days passed me, since I went first to Worcester, but I frequented common prayer either in mine own chapel with my family, or in churches abroad in my diocese, or elsewhere. And those six days, sickness made me keep my chamber. I can moreover safely say, that there hath passed me neither Sunday nor holyday, saving two only, (and then let as before,) wherein I preached not once or twice, besides my visitation sermons and workday sermons: and I never came in church, nor never preached, but I prayed. And for proof thereof I shall be able to bring sufficient testimony.

Where he supposeth, that Harwel told me, how he depraved my doctrine.

Truth it is, he depraved my doctrine; which was told me by as worshipful a man as sir John Bourne is himself, and one of much more credit. He bringeth in my wife to speak evil of her, if he could; that I should be offended with him, because he drank unto her. I would gladly know how he understood it, by word or countenance? I need not fear sir John Bourne of all other men: for he misliketh all priests’ wives, and dare call them whores. And I suppose none of them have great cause to favour him. In calling her lady, which is not her name, neither ever was so called, either before or since, (and he then did it to mock her,) I told him that therein he abused us both.

Where he heard but three sermons, it declareth what good will he beareth to God’s word. Where he misliked the last, and a learned man called it pernicious, I would pray that that learned man may be named. I preached at a marriage, and so had good occasion to speak of matrimony; which I wished to be made by consent of parents. Among many other scriptures and authorities for that purpose, I also brought in that saying of Evaristus, Matrimonia tunc sunt, cum expetuntur a parentibus; alioquin non matrimonia, sed stupra sunt: not precisely affirming, but only alleging his opinion: neither minding thereby to make dampnable, or of no validity, any matrimony so made according to the order of law received, as by him I am charged; but only to persuade how convenient parents’ assents be. To make equality between matrimony and virginity I never did. I am not so ignorant in the scriptures and writers. Marry I said, that neither matrimony nor virginity deserve heaven: for that was the free gift of God, attained by a lively faith in Christ Jesus. That I called all contracts without consent of parents damnable; or that I cried, Marry, Marry, it is most vain and untrue.

And where also he chargeth me, that I said five or six priests were detected of whoredom; of my truth it is a most vain fable: for neither did I speak it, neither was there any one priest in my diocese detected of whoredom: and therefore I could punish none.

Where he allegeth the law, what I ought to do in detection; this shaft cometh out of a lawyer’s quiver; who helped him to pen this vain book.

Where he saith, he never reasoned with me, nor none of mine; it is very untrue: for he reasoned with me in defence of transubstantiation, and condempned Peter Martyr’s doctrine and learning in comparison of Dr. Gardiner’s, late bishop of Winchester. He at that time said, he would never agree with me in religion. The like he spake to my chaplain, Mr. Wilson: and also took upon him to defend transubstantiation at my lord president’s table. This man taketh liberty to deny and say what he listeth.

Concerning the discourse which he maketh against the marriage of ministers, I think it not necessary to be answered by me, but leave it to the judgment of your honours, to whom, as he saith, he hath therein declared his opinion. What he liketh or misliketh, it maketh not much matter: for he misliketh the gospel, true religion, and these our times. But he ought of right most of all to mislike himself.

I was never charged before with covetousness: for it is a sin far from me of all others: for my greedy getting is such, that I am in debt a great sum. His further vain talk needeth no answer. Where he allegeth that he never called priests’ wives whores, it is untrue: for three women going through his park, wherein is a path for footmen, he, supposing they had been priests’ wives, called unto them, Ye shall not come through my park, and no such priests’ whores.

Where he calleth himself a beneficiary of the college of Worcester, your honours may well perceive how well he requiteth them for their benefits; who now accuseth them before you, the parties being absent. Indeed the college hath benefited him with some part of his living, and it benefited his father before him; who was an officer in the same church. But I have not heard of a courtesy used by him towards them. If he have to charge the dean and prebendaries of the said college, they have age, and can answer for themselves.

To the fifth article, I say, that his answer is most untrue and slanderous. I commanded process to be given forth for that woman whom his brother had polluted. When she appeared not, I charged with that fault my register.

Who answered, that sir John Bourne sent unto him to stay, and said that he would satisfy me. And this my register shall not deny. I shewed such favour unto his brother, that I caused him to do open penance, and also to pay four marks to the poor. How sir John hath misliked his brother, it doth well appear, since the beginning of this matter: for in his brother’s quarrel he wrote this undiscreet letter, [which was brought before the council, and he received a rebuke for it,] and proceedeth to rail upon me, and slander me, as your honours may perceive. And where he saith, that my chancellor put me in remembrance of goodfellowship, as he calleth it, wherewith he saith, I am said to be acquainted in my youth in such causes; I humbly beseech your honours, that my chancellor may be examined in that behalf: that if it shall appear that he used no such talk to me, it may be evident how slanderously this is invented and forged of himself.

And further, I shall most humbly pray your honours, even for the love that you bear to innocency, that sir John Bourne may be put to a further trial and proof of his hearsay, and I cleared of so heinous a slander. My life hath never been impeached nor blotted since I was born. How I have lived from my youth until this day, I have good testimony since I was twelve years of age. My lord of London for the most part hath known my conversation, as one with whom I have ever lived familiarly: except between thirteen and eighteen years of age, we have ever to this time lived as brothers together.

His testimony I shall pray may be heard. Besides him, Mr. Secretary, from eighteen years till that I was twenty-two, can tell of my life. It pleased him to use me familiarly. After that time, until I came from Cambridge, my lord of Canterbury, [Dr. Matthew Parker,] Mr. Dr. Haddon, sir Thomas Smith, and Mr. [Peter] Osburn, with many others, can report of my conversation.

I passed through all the degrees in the university orderly without any dispensation. I was chosen to all the offices of the university which were bestowed upon students: I was scrutator, I was taxer, I was proctor, and I was vice-chancellor. If my life was so lewd as sir John reporteth, the university would not thus have preferred me. And my rowme was to be master of a college. When I was in prison, no malice could or did charge my conversation. My life beyond the seas, I pray your honours that it may be testified by my lord of London, my lord of Salisbury, sir Anthony Coke, and sir Thomas Wroth. And since my coming home, I report me to the world. Having this testimony of my honest life, I trust ye will not suffer sir John Bourne thus impudently to slander me with hearsay.

To the sixth article I say, that the article is untrue. The altar-stone remaining in the church I commanded to be broken. At my coming thither it was removed out of the church, but not broken. The churchwardens openly affirmed, (which they cannot deny,) that sir John Bourne’s men had carried it into his house; and they durst not let it out, nor break it. What his good devotion is of late, I know not; but sure I am he hath devotion to pull down church and chapel, as hereafter I will remember unto you.

To the seventh article I say, that in the same he untruly slandereth me, my chancellor, and apparitor. We never called any without just cause, and worthy of correction. Those that were appointed to appear, were appointed by the discretion of his unlearned parson, and altogether by sir John Bourne’s direction. Those appointed were his tenants, and not well affected towards religion, and durst do no other than he commanded. I sent for other two which favoured the gospel, that they might detect his unlearned parson; who in the pulpit moved the people to auricular confession, as a thing necessary to salvation, as the auditors did report.

These two men the said sir John so used that they durst not come; and so I could not orderly proceed to the correction of the priest.

To the eighth article he reporteth my tale very untruly in divers points, as may appear by my own repetition. To his declaration in this article I answer, that my former words be true. And Mrs. Gervys, whom he allegeth for a witness, will affirm the same, I doubt not, if she be examined upon her oath. I termed not my man a gentleman; and yet his brother may dispend one hundred marks by year, as I hear; and sure I am he himself might spend twenty mark in land: his name is Acres. And that I should not offend sir John Bourne after the examination of that affray, I put him out of my service; who from me went to serve at New Haven: and being come over again from thence, he returned thitherwards with sir Thomas Fynch, and, as I hear say, is drowned. The wife that had her coat torn almost a foot long, (and not down to her skirts, as sir John reporteth,) was no gentlewoman, yet an honest woman. The other was a gentlewoman whom his son used with so vile talk. And this will be deposed.

Whose servant he was that sir John’s man smote, truth is, I know not. But whether be meet that sir John’s servant should smite in peril of death all such as will not put off their caps when sir John Bourne passeth by the common streets of a large city, I refer to the consideration of your honours. My brother came to the parting of that fray made between my man and his, as I credibly was informed; and neither procured it, nor called any man knave for it. Whereas sir John reporteth my brother called him knave: all that I know I will truly say, not to defend my brother’s evil, but to report a truth. Sir John met my brother riding towards Oxford; who put off his hat to him. Sir John, disdainfully looking at him, saluted him with these words; Farewell, sir knave; (for it is to be noted that it is common with him to term many honest men so.) My brother answered, Sir, you are no less. Whereat one of sir John’s men buckled to fight with him: but sir John stayed his man. It was some time after I heard of this. When I heard it, I earnestly reproved my brother; and six weeks after never spake unto him. And for these his uncomely words used to a knight, I put him out of my house and service: for I will keep none that either will brawl, or abuse his tongue towards any man of worship.

Where sir John chargeth me, by hearsay, that I should speak the like words in effect, he doth me great wrong: for I have used no words of reproach towards him: and my brother never offended me so much in any thing as in that. I suppose it is some correction which I have used, and will make him smart. But whether it be fit for sir John to give such occasion as then he did, and as in his letter and in his book also he doth, I refer it to your wisdoms. More than these there passed no words that ever I heard of.

In the ninth article sir John reporteth my tale made before your honours far otherwise than I spoke it. But that it is true so far as I reported it before your honours, I will refer me to the testimony of my lord president: that his son came near to my gates, and said as I before reported, I can prove by good witnesses. That the examination, and my report to the said lord president was all one, I refer me also to the said lord president. That I laboured the bailiffs in that examination, or that I either spake with the town-clerk, and set forth with him or the bailiffs, that is most untrue.

Wherein I refer me to the report of the said town-clerk. Indeed my lord president gave commission to the bailiffs to bind a conjurer to answer before the queen’s commissioners at London. The town-clerk made the bond, and appointed no day, nor what commissioners. Which bond was of no effect; wherewith I found fault. And this conjurer is one of sir John Bourne’s friends: for whom he laboured earnestly with my lord president.

In the tenth article he uttered more untrouth. As he began, so he continueth. I hearing by my chancellor that he and my lady, his wife, were comen from London, and would not keep Christmas at their own house, but with some friend; I required my chancellor to pray him and my lady, his wife, to keep Christmas with me. Which thing, I trust, my chancellor will witness. Where he saith, he kept house and hospitality, it is untrue. For he made his abode with Mr. Michael Liggon, who is his brother-in-law. What his number is, I know not. Sure I am, he may by report spend more than I.

Yet I trust my housekeeping will be better reported than his. As the gentlemen and I which were in commission were reading your honour’s commission, and making out precepts for the parties, I received his letters; all they will bear me witness. So your honours may see how true sir J. B’s reports be.

To the eleventh article I answer, I mervail what moveth sir J. B. to enter into my parentage. It is not pertaining to this matter. He reported, that I was neither gentleman nor honest man. I friendly told him of it, and said, I would not contend for gentry, but would defend my honesty. My father was an honest man, and served the king, and was a justice of peace in his county; and, I suppose, was much better known to divers of your honours than sir J. B’s father was. What sir J. B’s father was, I will not call into question. They which list to inquire may soon learn. Where he aceuseth me for giving the arms pertaining to divers families, whereof I am not issued, he doth me wrong. For those I have, the herald sent me, as due unto me.

And that this is true, here you may see his testimony, for my arms, house, and descent.

Here was enclosed a certificate of Hervey, alias Clarencieux, with bishop Sandys’ coat tricked. Which was or, a fesse indented gules, between three crosses croslets fitche of the same: being the bearing of Sandes of St. Bees in the county of Cumberland.

In the twelfth article he chargeth me with phrensy: and bringeth for his author the duke of Northumberland; who, if he lived, would teach him another lesson, than so impudently to report so manifest an untrouth. It went hard with that noble man, when sir J. B. was become his examiner.

The duke was so far from being offended with me, that he gave me hearty thanks, and commanded me to write the sermon, that it might be put in print, as Mr. Lever can report. And when he retired to Cambridge, he sent for me; was careful for me; and sought by many ways my safety. If sir J. B. hath heard by report of others this untrouth, I trust your honours will cause him to bring them forth. Those to whose testimony I referred my life can also declare, how vain, malicious, and scandalous this report is. I think it too much to be borne of him, except he can prove it, considering whereunto this slander tendeth.

To the thirteenth and last article I answer, that concerning his brother, I never reported any such matter against him, as sir John reporteth. Which thing shall evidently appear, when the matter cometh to the trial. His brother hath entered an action upon the case against me: and I have to answer; viz. there cometh two quarrellers unto me, and abused me with words, and gave me the lie thrice. Against the one, good abearing is granted, and he is fled the country. The other contemned the council of the marches letter, till proclamation went forth against him. They were both of late Mr. Dr. Pate’s [late bishop of Worcester’s] men: and now be without living or service; earnest adversaries to the gospel. They termed by occasion Thomas Bourne an honest gentleman. I said, If whoredom were honesty, he might be honest. And moreover, I said unto them, If he and you bear rebellious minds towards the queen’s majesty’s proceedings, thereunto, I trust, you shall answer another day. This was all I said; and being ordinary there, and of the commission for the peace, I supposed I might use quick words against vice, and sharply rebuke such stubborn fellows : and not to be called to answer such actions of the case, as by procurement of the said sir John he hath taken against me. The said Thomas for his tumultuous disorder is now attendant before your honours, and in his country bound to the good abesring for his lewd behaviour.

He saith, he is sorry for those letters he wrote to me in his warmness. He may appear in his long book, made at good leisure, and not without learned advice had of his friends, how sorry he is, that from undiscreet writing of a private letter hath proceeded to slander me most despitefully and unjustly, before the face of so noble a council, only upon his malicious mind; to the intent to put into your hands an evil opinion of me. I trust your wisdoms will consider, what he will do at home, that dare do thus much before your honours. And thus I have truly answered.

And because sir John hath in this book spotted me with many slanderous reports: for which I can have neither action upon the case, nor libel of defamation, (as I do learn,) the same being exhibited against me before your honours: and for that also he hath craftily uttered them in his book, not directly affirming them, but adding hearsay, or such like words thereunto; to the intent to put me without remedy in law for the same: and also because I do suppose he hath delivered copies of the said slanderous and untrue book to many of his fautors, or at least shewed it unto them; (as I am sure he did shew the copy of his undiscreet letter to divers of his friends:) therefore my most humble and earnest suit is unto your honours, (and that for the better preservation of my credit in that office and function wherein the queen’s highness hath put me,) that it may please your honours at this honourable board openly to hear and determine these matters betwixt him and me, in such order as shall be thought meet unto your honours: lest if they should be otherwise ordered, I shall not seem to the world sufficiently purged thereof. From the popish dealing with this bishop may be collected the spirit of popery in those times against the gospel, and especially the chief ministers thereof.

That which followed in this affair was, that by order of the council sir John Bourne was committed to the Marshalsea; and remained six or seven weeks there, as some punishment for his evil dealing with the bishop.

Notwithstanding, after this, he received so much favour, upon pretence of having some great accusations to exhibit against the bishop for wronging of the bishopric, that he was allowed to bring in what complaints he would against him: still shewing his rancour of mind was not abated. Accordingly he with his counsel drew up one paper concerning the doings of the bishop of Worcester; and another long scroll of the abuses of the dean and chapter. First, Concerning the bishops’ doings in prejudice of his revenues; as how the queen had delivered unto him in lands and tenements a thousand pounds by the year, to maintain the estate of him and his successors. And, among other things, how she had assigned these bishops for their habitation and access, four houses, that is, the palace at Worcester, the castle of Hartlebury, the house of the manor of Grimley and Hallow, and the manor house of Northwike. That the said house of Grimley, built in the third year of king Henry VIII. (in which the late archbishop of York, [Heath,] and Pates, the late bishop there, kept their households, and left the same sufficiently repaired,) this present bishop suffered to go down for lack of repairs, and took a great quantity of bricks and other stuff, parcel of the said house, and made therewith at his palace a washing house, necessary for the women’s laundry. [Sir J. B. is ready to interpret any thing to shew his odium against the wives of the bishops and clergymen.] And that the bishop minded, as it was said and feared, to pull it down, and to sell the brick, lead, iron, glass, tile, timber, and pavement of it; which would make a good portion of money. That the manor house of Northwike (built in the beginning of Henry VII. his reign) he had already pulled down, and razed from the bottom of the foundation: and having sold the hall, and the most part of the matter and stuff unto his friends, making thereof a great piece of money; with some part of the rest had raised at his palace a pretty building, which he called his nursery; to which it was also put, his wife being of good fecundity, and a very fruitful woman, [flinging again against the bishop’s married estate.] And that for the furniture and finishing of the said nursery, he had likewise razed and pulled down a fair long vaulted chapel of stone, standing within his said palace.

That his wife being thus fruitful, he had for one of his children procured, in his brother’s name, one lease of the parsonage of Flodbury: which benefice was yearly worth 400 mark, and better; being one of his own patronage, having a goodly mansion, and a goodly demean: whereof was wont to be kept great hospitality. It is too long to set down the rest of this gentleman’s cavils; as, that another of the bishop’s sons had got a lease of Wharton, another parsonage in Lancashire. That at one place the said bishop had sold his common woods; and in another place had offered sales of his timber.

That he had granted reversions of farms and leases, divers of them after forty years and more to come. That his officers had moved his copyholders, to take reversions of their tenements. And lastly, that the bishop’s long tale to the privy council against him was most untrue and vain; only he confessed his misliking of priests’ marriages, and especially his, as being a thing that shewed their covetousness, wantonness, and carelessness to do their office. All which, no question, the bishop replied unto, as well as he had done to the rest.

Then followed sir J. B’s scroll of the abuses of the dean and chapter, and of their wives. As, that the petty canons served cures, some two apiece, whereby the quire there was oftentimes unserved, and the service sung in haste. That the singingmen were chosen out of such as had little or no skill in music. That divers of them were tailors and craftsmen, and served the dean and prebendaries, and had no other wages. That the pipes of a great pair of organs, which cost 200l. the making, (being one of the solemn instruments of this realm,) were molten into dishes among the prebendaries wives; and the case had made them bedsteads. That the silver plate was divided among the prebendaries: and likewise that it was intended to divide the copes and ornaments; and that they had so done, had not some unmarried resisted. That divers of the almsmen were lusty, and men of wealth, and lay abroad by sufferance. That the places of scholars were not always bestowed gratis. That the wives of the prebendaries married (their husbands keeping no hospitality) sold the grain allotted to their portions; not in Worcester market, but at the dearest in the best market for the seller.

That money appointed to highways was not bestowed. That the great cloche, or steeple, called the leaden steeple, which king Henry III. built, and the charnel house built by that nobleman, Walter de Cautelupo, sometime bishop of Worcester, and son to the earl of Hereford, for reposition and preserving dead men’s skulls and bones, as a miroir, wherein Christen men should behold their mortality and frail condition, being two of the goodliest monuments of that part of the realm, (the lead whereof was worth 500l .) were lately appointed to be pulled down; the steeple by the dean and chapter, if order to the contrary had not come from this honourable board, or her majesty, as it was said: the charnel house by the bishop, if the dean and chapter had consented. That stock in money they had little or none, whatsoever need the queen, the realm, the church should have: all fines, perquisites, profits of corn, &c. being once a year divided between the dean and prebendaries, and put into their private purses; wherewith they decked their wives so finely for the stuff and singular fashion of their garments, as none were so fine and trim in that city. Which fashion of habit (as he maliciously and jeeringly said) was called the demure and sober habit. And as by their habit and apparel you might know the priests’ wives, and by their gait in the market and the streets, from an hundred other women; so in the congregation and cathedral church they were easy to be known, by placing themselves above all other of the most ancient and honest calling of the said city, &c. Thus did this virulent popish gentleman detain the queen’s most honourable privy council with his impertinencies.

But in fine, he was adjudged by them to make his submission in writing to the injured bishop; and was left to draw it up himself. Which he did after such a sort, that he strove still in some things to justify, and in others to excuse himself. So that the form of his submission, brought before the council, some one of the bishop’s friends made several exceptions against.

As, that in one place of it, by a protestation he justified himself in those things which the bishop had charged him with; and did burden him to be the first occasiongiver, and an offerer of injuries and ungentleness towards him and his: which seemed rather as a defence of himself, and an accusation of the bishop, than a submission. Wherefore the bishop’s friend desired the privy council, that that protestation might be left out, or otherwise reformed, or at least somewhat expounded, by adding after the word injuries, these words, as I did then take it. Which would, he said, much satisfy the bishop. Further, he had not particularly recited all the matters wherewith he had charged the bishop. For he had omitted, presumptuous giving of arms, dissolute life in youth, preaching against the queen’s majesty that now is, preaching of unsound and erroneous doctrine.

He added, (addressing himself to the council,) that the bishop had already humbly submitted himself to such order as it would please the lords to make; that therefore, if they would direct their honourable letters to his lordship, he would gladly accomplish the same. That as he was sure the bishop was in perfect charity with sir J. B. so he knew he would be well contented to shew the same by any reasonable ways or means. And therefore he moved their lordships to direct their letters to the bishop with the submission enclosed; and to appoint that sir J. B. should deliver the same to the bishop. Which he supposed would well satisfy the bishop; and besides be an occasion, that privately between themselves they might fully be reconciled. And this I suppose was done, and so this discord seemingly ended.

Sir John Bourne from the Marshalsea wrote this humble and submissive letter to secretary Cecil, acknowledging his fault, calling himself a naughty wretch, and terming his late dealings towards the bishop of Worcester, his folly and ill behaviour. “Right Honourable, “I durst not be bold to crave of your goodness and benignity, were [it] not your good nature, having indeed smally deserved any fruit of it. Yet as you have graciously begun with my poor wife, so for the love of God shew further of the fruit thereof to her comfort and mine. You may do me good; and I, a naughty wretch, much need the same. And therefore, as I am necessitate to crave it for relief in this affliction of my poor house, only proured by my folly and evil behaviour, which I most humbly and unfeignedly confess and bewail with all my very heart, so let me not be forced to sue too late for favour. And my sad wife, children, and servants, and we all shall pray for you and yours, to continue and increase in virtue and honour. Your honour’s woful orator to command, “From the Marshalsea, the 21st of April. Jo. Bourne.”

But in what terms the bishop stood afterwards with this knight, may be seen by this passage in a letter of his to the secretary some years after, that is, anno 1569. “But I have at hand a constant and cruel enemy, who desires nothing more than my destruction. He daily molesteth me, and maketh me weary of mine office. He will, if he can, work my woc. None love him for himself, but for his religion many like him.” And the uneasiness in this good bishop might hasten his translation to another see; which happened soon after, viz. that of London.

CHAPTER 36.

Some remarks of Coverdale; Fox; Parkhurst, bishop of Norwich; and bishop Guest, the queen’s almoner. The emperor writes to the queen in favour of the papists. Dr. Richard Marshal subscribes.

Sir Francis Englefield. The queen’s spy at Rome. Councils there.

State of the churches abroad. Council of Trent ends. A godly and necessary admonition concerning, the decrees of that council. AND these are some of the main matters that passed in this church hitherto.

Now let us take up some other historical notices falling out about this time, relating to some other bishops, or eminent fathers of this church. Miles Coverdale, formerly bishop of Exeter, (he that with Tindal and Rogers, since Wicklift, first translated the Bible into English; he that assisted at the consecration of queen Elizabeth’s first archbishop of Canterbury, and was one of the exiles that returned home upon that queen’s happy access to the crown; but had remained without any preferment from that time hitherto: the reason whereof was, because he could not, or cared not to comply with some ceremonies and habits enjoined to churchmen; which was the cause that at the consecration of the archbishop he wore only a plain black gown.) This reverend man, being now old and poor, the bishop of London committed to his charge the church of St. Magnus, at the bridge foot. But the first-fruits being 60l. 16s. 10d. ob. he was not able to pay: which made him, in the month of January, address a letter to the archbishop; as he did likewise to the bishop of London, and to his friends, the lord Robert Dudley, and secretary Cecil; that they, setting his age and his poverty before the queen, would prevail with her to forgive him that debt. Which favour was at length obtained for him.

And this year the said father Coverdale went out doctor of divinity in one of our universities; which degree he had obtained long before in the university of Tubing in Germany. And the same degree in divinity this same year did Barkley, bishop of Bath and Wells, take per gratiam. Coverdale, after two or three years, deceased (viz. May 20, 1565,) at the age of eighty-one; living (as he promised the archbishop) quiet, though not coming up probably to the uniformity required; and was buried in St. Bartholomew’s church behind the Exchange: and these Latin verses wrote upon his grave-stone, viz. Hic tandem, requiemque ferens finemque laborum Ossa Coverdali mortua tumbus habet.

Exoniae qui praesul erat dignissimus olim, Insignis vitae vir probitate suae.

Octoginta annos grandaevus vixit, et unum, Indignum passus saepius exilium.

Sic demum variis jactatum casibus, ista Excepit gremio terra benigna suo.

To this father I join another grave, learned, and painful divine, viz. father John Fox, who as yet also was without preferment. He seemed most of all to desire a prebend at Norwich; partly, I suppose, that he might be near his friend bishop Parkhurst, his fellow exile, and partly, that he might be near the duke of Norfolk, his great patron, and whom he had once instructed as his preceptor. Therefore attempts were made to remove some prebendary thence to other preferment, to make way for Fox. Concerning this, he wrote to the bishop of Norwich for the remove of one Fowles. And of this the bishop wrote these words: “That as touching the prebend, what I with other your friends have done in that behalf, I am sure you have heard. Howbeit the success is not such as we hoped at Mr. Fowle’s hands.” But he added, “that there was one Mr. Smith in Cambridge, that had another prebend; who, as he heard, could be content to part from it upon reasonable conditions.” And to comfort this deserving man, all this while unprovided for, he added, “Good Mr. Fox, appoint you to come down as soon as conveniently you may; and doubt you not, God will provide for you either that or some other thing as good.

Whereunto there shall want nothing in me that I am able to do.”

But his lot was afterwards to obtain a good prebend [viz. Shipton under Wichwood] in the church of Sarum, which continued to his heirs.

This year the illustrious duke of Norfolk buried his wife in Norwich, I suppose in the cathedral church. The duke’s council appointed the dean of Christ’s-church [Sampson] to preach at the interment of the duchess. But the bishop hearing of it, for doing the greater honour to the duke, sent his letter to the council, offering his service in that behalf. For although, as he said, the other could do much better than he, yet he thought it his bounden duty to do all things that he might, to God’s glory, to do honour to the duke’s grace. Therefore the dean buried her, and the bishop made the sermon Jan. 24. Her burial was very honourable; and yet without the popish ceremonies of carrying lights and crucifixes. Of this the bishop certified Mr. Fox by letter, who was related in service to that family; telling him, after his jocose way, “All things were done honourably, sine crux, sine lux, at non sine tinkling. There was neither torch, neither taper, candle, nor any light else, beside the light of the sun; ringing there was enough;” [according to the old custom of ringing the bells at funerals; which was now thought to be superstitious.] Gesner, that great learned man of Zurich, was minded to publish the ancient ecclesiastical authors from good copies. For which purpose he sent here into England to his acquaintance, the bishop of Norwich, (with whom he became acquainted, as it seems, in his exile,) a catalogue of books of that sort, that search might diligently be made in all our best libraries for MS. copies of them. The bishop was very diligent in carrying on this good design; and accordingly sent to his friends in both universities to search their libraries, and to Fox to search the queen’s library. An account of what the bishop did in this matter may be seen by this extract of his letter to Mr. Fox, conversant in MSS. to whom he sent also Gesner’s letter. “I have sent you here enclosed a letter written to me from D.

Gesner, and two catalogues, the one for you, to search by that the queen’s library, according to D. Gesner’s request, and to ask of other learned men concerning the same. The other, I pray you, send to Mr. Sampson, or Dr. Humphrey, that search may be made in Oxford also. One I have sent to Mr. Beaumont, in Cambridge, [master of Trinity college,] that he may do the like. I would rather be negligent in other things, than in setting forth old ancient writers.

And yet, to say the truth to you, I like no old writers worse than Dionysius. The which, although he be somewhat ancient, yet I am persuaded, that it was not Areopagita ille de quo Act. 17. I pray you certify me of these things as soon as you may. And if a bloodhound or twayn might be sent to Zuric according to D.

Gesner’s request, I would rejoice not a little, and would be content to pay for the charge thereof. I write this unto you, because you be so good a hunter, and have plenty of dogs. [Fox being now probably with the duke of Norfolk, at his house at Rygate in Surrey.] I pray you, when you have perused D. Gesner’s letters, that you will send them again forthwith to me, that I may make answer to the same against the next mart. Commend me to Mrs.

Fox, to Mr. Day [the printer] and his wife, and thank him for the book of the Relics of Rome, which he sent me. I will thank Mr. Beton, [the author,] which dedicated the same to my name, another time, if God so will. If you see the bishop of London, the dean of Paul’s, Mr. Whitehead, and other of my friends there, I pray you salute them in my name.

Your John Norwic.”

A lawsuit happened this year between Guest, bishop of Rochester, and Allyn and Chamberlyn, sheriffs of London. The case was this. This bishop was lord almoner to the queen. She had, as it seems, allotted for her almoner (according to the custom of former princes) such goods and chattels as should be forfeited to her from persons laying violent hands upon themselves. There was now a citizen that had mortally wounded himself. But before this fact, there came into the hands of these sheriffs 330l. ready money of this person’s; whether he were their prisoner or otherwise, I cannot tell. But upon his death the bishop required this money of them, which they refusing, claiming it as theirs, he sued them, and recovered it for the queen’s use. In July, the council wrote to the sheriffs for account to be made to them of the goods of this person deceased.

Whereunto they gave this answer. “Of the person mentioned in your most honourable letters, before the hurt to hym happened, came to our hands 330l. in ready mony, which mony the reverend father in God, Edmond, bishop of Rochester, high almoner to our gracious soveraign lady the queen’s most excellent majestie, by reason of his office, received of us, after suit therefore against us made by him; as by the acquittance of the said almoner for our discharge concerning the same to us made ready to be shewn, (if case so require,) may and doth more fully appear. And other or moo goods of his came not to our hands, as knoweth the Holy Ghost, &c.”

I find the like case happening in the year 1489, when one Roger Shavelock, citizen of London, slew himself; for whose goods there was contest between the king’s almoner and the sheriff. But the almoner recovered them. And I read in Dyer’s Reports, that king Edward VI. granted the office of almoner to Dr. Coxe, durante beneplacito; and after, by letters patents, granted him, in augmentationem eleemosynae suae, omnia bona et catalla felonum de se tam infra libertates quam extra, infra regnum Angliae habend. quamdiu in offlcio praedict. steterit.

Ferdinand, emperor of Germany, wrote this year two letters to the queen in behalf of the Roman Catholics, her subjects. The one was in behalf of the bishops imprisoned, and others professing the same religion as himself did; that she would not prosecute them too rigorously, if they would not nor could not with a safe conscience comply with that which she and the states of the kingdom had established about religion; that is, in making such liable to be punished as traitors, that refused swearing the supremacy. To which request of the emperor she gave so grateful an answer, that in another letter to her he commended her modesty, gentleness, and clemency; virtues truly worthy a queen and a princess. In Sept. 24, the same emperor wrote again to her, that she would rather favour and cherish her Catholic subjects, than to prosecute, banish, or oppress them. He requested, moreover, that they might be allowed a church in every city, and have the free use there of their religion. Of this letter many copies were secretly dispersed. See this letter in the second Appendix.

As to his first request, the queen in her answer, dated Nov. 3, from Windsor, shewed him, “how favourable she was to her popish subjects in suspending punishment, though they did that which was very dangerous to the commonwealth, in acting so openly against the laws. And the chief of them such, as in the reigns of her father and brother, by their sermons and writings, propounded to the people that same doctrine which they did now so much oppose. But as to the second, to grant them churches where they should celebrate their own service without impediment, she could not do it, being against the laws of her parliament, and so highly dangerous to the state of her kingdom, and having many difficulties attending it. That it would be to sow various religions in the nation, to distract the minds of honest men, to cherish parties and factions, and to disturb religion and the commonwealth in that present quiet state wherein it was.

That it was evil in itself, but worst of all for the example of it, and not very profitable and safe for them for whom this favour was desired. And lastly, that she and her subjects followed not any new or strange religion, but that very religion which the ancientest fathers did indeed approve and practise.” This excellent letter I found among Fox’s Collections. It is preserved in the second Appendix.

Being entered upon popish matters, I shall mention something concerning two eminent persons under queen Mary, falling within the compass of this year: the one a churchman, and a chief member of her university of Oxford; and the other a statesman, and a chief officer of her court, viz. Richard Marshal, D.D. late dean of Christ’s-church, and sir Francis Englefield, knt.

Dr. Marshal was a violent promoter of the papacy, and enemy to all opposers of it in his university, under that queen, where he reigned tyrannically. Which was the more noted, because under king Edward he seemed as forward the other way. He watched narrowly to have catched Jewel, when he fled from Oxford. One act that shewed the man, was his digging up the body of Peter Martyr’s wife out of her grave in Christ’schurch, where she had been some years buried, and casting it into his dunghill. This and other doings of his in the former reign made him to be the more watched in this. He lurked about in the north, and had been with the earl of Cumberland; but was at last taken up, and being brought before the council, he was committed to the bishop of London in custody. And on St. Thomas day made this formal subscription:

Ego Richardus Martialis, sacrae theologiae professor, olim ecclesiae Oxonien. decanus, ad respondendum de negotio fidei coram reverendo in Christ. patre, dno Edmundo Londinensi episcopo, ex mandato illustrissimorum clarissimorumque virorum, ac dominorum meorum, sacrae regiae majestatis consiliariorum postulatus, deliberatione matura satis habita, paucis hoc responsum volo; atque per scriptum praesens, cujus tenor subsequitur, plane respondeo.

Articulis omnibus ac singulis, de quibus in synodo Londinen. an. Dom. 1562, ad tollendam opinionum dissensionem, et firmandum in vera religione consensum, inter reverendiss. patres, DD. archiepiscopos, episcoposque utriusque provinciae, necnon universum clerum convenit: quibus omnibus articulis sereniss. regina nostra D. Elizabetha Dei gratia, Angliae, Franciae, et Hiberniae regina, fidei defensor, &c. regium suum praebuit assensum: Ego Richardus Martialis praefatus ultro volens consentiensque mea manu subscripsi. Datum Londini in aedibus reverendi in Christ. patris, D. Edmundi Londinensi episc, superius nominati, 12° calen. Januarias, festo D. Thomae apostoli.

Richardus Martialis mea manu scripsi.

On the back side of this paper is writ by the bishop of London’s hand, Copie of D. Marshall’s subscription. To which the said Marshal would have given a more public testimony by word of mouth in St. Paul’s, had not his death prevented. For thus a writer in those times tells us: That Marshal made a public retractation under king Edward; returned to his vomit under queen Mary; and under queen Elizabeth he played the vagabond: but afterwards was taken and examined at London. Then again he changed his opinion, and this third time sung another song. And if he had lived longer would have again testified it in Paul’s pulpit. I suppose therefore he died in custody, and not in Yorkshire, as a late author writes.

The other gentleman I am going to mention was more steady, viz.

Sir Francis Englefield, privy counsellor to queen Mary, a great man with her, and master of her wards and liveries, not complying with the change of religion under this queen, in the year 1559 fled abroad with some few others. And now his lands and goods were seized to the queen’s use, for his disobedience in not coming home after the queen’s revocation of him, and for consorting with her enemies. Whereupon, August 18, he wrote the privy council a large letter, expostulating and apologizing on the account of his conscience: “That he was rather an unwilling offender, than a malicious; and that his cause was not unworthy of their honours’ accustomed commendation unto her majesty’s clemency. That where he was charged with adhering to her majesty’s enemies and rebels, he answered, that he never yet had been in place where any one so shewed himself, nor was so manifested, that he might know him for such. That where he was called once, though not often, and commanded to make a speedy return, he granted he did not perform it. But he prayed them to call to mind of what faith and conscience they had known him always to have been in religion, consonant to that he had been taught and bred up in, and the present orders, proceedings, and laws in England so dissonant and varying therefrom. Which two laid together did shew how hard a choice was left to him, viz. either in following the laws to wrest and strain his conscience, or by not obeying them to offend his prince.

And therefore to shun these two most sharp and grievous, he yielded to embrace a third, and to sequester himself unto a private life in some other place. That his conscience was not made of wax.

That many of their lordships had tasted largely of the invincible force of conscience, and her untractable nature, on which side soever she take. She might, he said, be crazed and cracked by things infinite that seemed but small: and being once forced to fail in the least, that canker was never curable after. But to change and alter she could not be framed by man’s power or policy, till God pleased to draw her, being once firmly fixed. That though that little he was threatened to lose could not draw him presently to the offence of his prince, yet what lack and necessity might hereafter do, he dared not warrant, nor take on him to say. He prayed their lordships therefore to be means unto her majesty’s clemency for him in this cause; that he might be spared, as hitherto, to enjoy that small portion of living yet left him. And he bade them to reject his suit, if he sought to find more favour now than heretofore, when his lot served, he was willing to shew, or than by his help others had enjoyed. That if the place or company where he lived did offend, he should be always willing to change the same, and to conform himself to the queen’s devotion.”

This was the sum of sir Francis’s letter. Where we cannot but observe his great argument for himself is conscience, (and a very good argument indeed,) and so was it commonly urged in this reign by papists, as we have seen before: and yet in the last reign, when it was urged by others, what little regard did they give to it themselves!

But to let the world see how favourably this gentleman was dealt withal, notwithstanding his complaint, let me bring in another part of his story, though it happened three or four years after; when I find him still in Spain, and greatly esteemed by king Philip there: who, in his behalf, had moved Man, the English ambassador at that court, to solicit the queen to allow him the income of his estate, and to live abroad where he listed: and so had the Spanish ambassador also here dealt with her for the said Englefield.

Hereupon the queen commanded her said ambassador in a letter wrote to him in the latter end of the year 1567, to give her answer to the said king about this matter. Whereby it appeared, that sir Francis’s servants to that time received the rents of his lands, which there was no doubt were disposed of according to his will; except some small part of the same reserved for the maintenance of the lady Engle-field, his wife, upon her petition. And as to his conscience, there were many papists then living under the queen in England, without any disturbance for their opinion in religion, carrying themselves peaceably under the government; such was the mildness of a protestant ruler.

For these were the queen’s instructions to the ambassador; “That she perceived by sundry his letters, and by the Spanish ambassador’s frequent treating with her, what earnest means sir Francis Inglefeld used toward the king there, and others of his council, for the obtaining of her grant, that he might enjoy the profit of his lands, to live thereupon, and contrary to her laws, where he would, in any part of Christendom. In which matter she thought it good, that the king her good brother should understand her doings; what mercy and favour she had used towards him; and how far otherwise she thought surely the king would use any subject of his in such like case. First, how he had been required to repair [home.] That it was well known how he might live here at home, being disposed to quietness, without molestation of his conscience, which the example of her clemency towards a great number, his inferiors, might well teach him. And that yet upon his often refusal to return, though the profits of his lands were stayed by order of her laws, to be answered unto her, yet she never received unto this day, neither did dispose to any other person, any part thereof; saving only that she directed to his wife, upon her lamentable petition, (being an heir, and by whom the said sir Francis had a great portion of living,) a small part to maintain her, in a meaner degree than belonged to his wife. And the rest of all his living had been, for any thing she knew, disposed by his friends and servants to the use of the said sir Francis, as he appointed. So as, the matter being well considered, he had no cause to complain of any thing past. “And that seeing her clemency had been such to him, and yet, as it seemed, he had made complaint of her usage, she trusted the king would forbear to press her any more, or otherwise, in this matter, than he would have her do, if the like case were for a subject of his.

And this she told her ambassador she would have him declare concerning this matter of sir Francis Inglereid, to the king her good brother. Whereunto he might add, that if the queen were disposed to give ear to such reports as were made unto her of the misbehaviour of the said sir Francis at sundry times, contrary to his loyalty and duty, she should, instead of this clemency and lenity, shew some severity without breach of justice.”

There was a paper, that some way or other fell into the lord treasurer Burghley’s hands in the year 1574, containing a list of English men and women in Spain and the Spanish dominions, that were the king of Spain’s pensioners, wrote by this Inglefield, and sent by him to the duke of Feria; who, though he had married one Dormer, an English woman, and lived in England in queen Mary’s time, yet hated Elizabeth from the beginning of her reign, and had stirred up pope Pius IV. to excommunicate her, and the king of Spain to be her enemy. By Inglefield’s correspondence with such a man, and by being able to draw up such a list, one may conjecture how well he was acquainted with queen Elizabeth’s traitors; and that he must be little better than the rest himself. This list was as followeth:

PERSONS PROVIDED FOR HERE.

The Countess of Northumberland Mr. Markenfeld Mr. Tempest The earl of Westmerland Mr. Bulmer The lord Dacre Mr. Danby The lady Hungerford Mr. Francis Norton Sir Francis Englefeld Mr. Thwing Sir Christoph. Nevyl Mr. Chamberlain Sir John Nevyl Mr. Ligons Mr. Dr. Parker Mr. Standon 50 Mr. Rich. Norton Mr. Mocket Mr. Copley Mr. Hugh Owen 40.

Mr. George Tyrrel Mr. Jenney Mr. Titchburn Mr. Geo. Smith Mr. Bach Mr. Rob. Owen Mr. Powel, priest Mrs. Story, widow Mr. Olyver Thomas Kinred Mr. Nolworth PERSONS GONE TOWARDS SPAIN TO SUE FOR PENSIONS My lord Edward Seymour Mr. Southwel Mr. Carew Mr. Harecourt Mr. Francis Moore Mr. Blackstone Mr. Pridieux Mr. George Moore Williams John Story.

But the queen and kingdom, notwithstanding the fair pretences of the fugitives, had cause to be suspicious of them; the popish faction endeavouring to do her mischief by her own subjects of that persuasion, which they had with them at hand, to instil into them their dangerous instructions. And she knew well how enraged the pope and his church would be at the reformation she had established; and being apprehensive what dangerous devices they would meditate against her, she and her secretary made use of a diligent man, one E. Dennum, sent over to Italy about 1562 or 1563, to send her majesty intelligence of foreign conspiracies and contrivances: and having made use of money, got several notices of the pope, and what he was doing in his privy cabals and councils.

A list whereof he sent from Venice, together with a letter to secretary Cecyl, April 13, 1564. A copy of this paper fell afterwards into the hands of that diligent antiquary, sir James Ware. But the original was kept private in the queen’s closet, among other papers of secrecy. The contents thereof were these:

I. That pope Pius had consulted with the clergy of Italy at an assembly which he had called; when it was voted, that the immunity of the Roman church, and her jurisdiction, was required to be defended by all princes, as the principal church of God. And to encourage the same, that council voted, that Pius should bestow the queen’s realm on that prince who would attempt to conquer it.

II. That there was another council ordered by way of committee; containing three of the cardinals, six of the bishops, and as many of the order of the Jesuits, who daily, now increased, and came in great favour with the pope.

These did weekly present methods and ways and contrivances for the church of Rome. And these were prepared for a great council to be holden afterwards, whose business was how to order all things for the advancement of the Romish see. Some of these contrivances were as follow:

First , To offer the queen to confirm the English liturgy, some things being altered; provided she do acknowledge the same from Rome. But if denied, then to asperse the liturgy of England by all ways and conspiracies imaginable.

Secondly , A licence or dispensation to be granted to any of the Romish orders, to preach, speak, or write against the new established church of England; to be done among protestants in other parts, on purpose to make England odious to them. These persons so licensed and indulged to be seemingly as some of them; and not to be either taxed, checked, or excommunicate for so doing. They were also to change their names, lest they might be discovered. And they were to keep a quaternal correspondence with some of the cardinals, archbishops, bishops, abbots, priors, and others of the chief monasteries, abbeys, &c.

Thirdly , For the preventing of any of these dispensed persons from flinching off from them, or falling from this correspondence by some good reward, there should be several persons appointed to watch the parties so licensed, and to give intelligence to Rome of their behaviour. And these parties were to be sworn not to divulge to any of the persons so licensed or indulged what they were, or from whence they came, but to be strange, and to come in as one of their converts.

Fourthly , In case any of the hypocritical ministry of England should become as those who had these licences, it was deliberated what was then to be done. The bishop of Mentz answered, that that was the thing they aimed at; and that they desired no more than a separation among the heretics of England; and the more animosities there were among them, there would be the fewer to oppose the mother church of Rome, whenever opportunity served.

Fifthly , A pardon to be granted to any that would assault the queen, or to any cook, brewer, baker, vintner, physician, grocer, chirurgeon, or of any other calling whatsoever, that would make her away. And an absolute remission of sins to the heirs of that party’s family, and a perpetual annuity to them for ever, and to be of the privy council to whomsoever afterwards should reign.

Sixthly , For the better assurance of further intelligence to the see of Rome, licences were to be given to dispense with several baptisms, marriages, and other ceremonies of the church of England, to possess and enjoy any offices, either ecclesiastical, military, or civil; to take such oaths as should be imposed upon them, provided that the same oaths be taken with a reserve for to serve the mother church of Rome, whenever opportunity served. In which case the act of council passed, that it was not sin, but meritorious; and that when it so served for Rome’s advantage, the party was absolved from his oath.

Seventhly , That the Romish orders cherish all adherents to the mother church. And whenever occasion served, to be in a readiness at the times appointed; and to contribute according to their capacities for the promoting the Romish cause.

Eighthly , That the Romish party shall propose a match for the queen of one of the catholic princes.

Ninthly , Excommunication and a perpetual curse to light on the families and posterity of all those of the mother church, that will not promote or assist, by means of money or otherwise, Mary queen of Scotland’s pretence to the crown of England.

Tenthly , Every Roman Catholic within England and Ireland to contribute to those Romish bishops and parish priests, that were privately, or should be, sent over to them; and to pay all the church duties, as if they were in possession: and this upon pain of excommunication to them and their posterity.

Eleventhly , The see of Rome to dispense with all parties of the Roman faith to swear to all heresies in England, and elsewhere. And that not to be a crime against the soul of the party; the accused taking the oath with an intention to promote or advance the Roman Catholic faith.

And all these aforesaid articles were decreed and ordered by the pope’s council.

And now let me subjoin the state of the foreign churches in France, Italy, and Switzerland;which at this time was very sad, and the gospellers that lived in those countries were under great apprehensions of extreme calamities to befall them, by means of the council of Trent, that studied nothing so much as the ruin of the reformed, and the house of Guise active with the pope to bring the same to pass. Some brief account of this Bullinger gave to John Fox in a letter from Zurick, writ in March, 1563. Dolemus nos vehementissime casum florentissimi regni Galliae, quod Guisiana domus sanguinaria, domus Achab, hoc anno propemodum (quis credidisset?) evertit; ac calamitosissima subinde veremur. Orandum est ergo Dorainum, ut is nostri misereatur, et fratribus in Gallia pacem restituat, ac tranquillitatem. Ex Italia nuntiatur, Lotharingum cardinalem, qui Italiam praetextu concilii Tridentini adeundi ingressus est, commovere ad arma principes Italiae contra fideles. Consilia et auxilia communicat caput omnis mali Antichristus papa. Molitur mira concilium ipsum Tridentinum. Ut si Deus non dissipaverit cruenta illorum consilia, sicut hactenus fecit, vix absque bello simus hac aestate futuri. That is, “We do extremely lament the misfortune of the most flourishing kingdom of France, this year well near destroyed (who would have believed it?) by the bloody house of Guise, that house of Ahab. And ever and anon we fear worse still. Let us therefore beseech God to have mercy on us, and to restore peace and quietness to the brethren in France. The news is from Italy, that the cardinal of Loraine, who is entered Italy upon colour of going to the council of Trent, stirs up the princes of Italy to take arms against the faithful.

Antichrist the pope, the head of all mischief, contributes his counsels and his aids. The council of Trent itself is contriving strange things. That if God do not scatter their bloody purposes, as hitherto he hath done, we shall hardly escape war this summer.”

And what the same party was doing here in England, as well as elsewhere, to undermine religion, and to bring in the old rejected superstitions, we saw afore: and what odd councils were hatching at Rome for that purpose.

This popish council, beginning anno 1545, concluded this present year 1563, which this state and church of England utterly disowned, and therefore would send no representatives thither; whereat the papists were angry: which one of that party, soon after the conclusion of it, expressed in print in a taunting way. For thus we find Dorman telling dean Nowell, “That it was fear to be vanquished in their heresies, that they durst not come to the late general Trident council, where they were called; and that therefore, like cowardly yeomen, fearing the war, they caused their wives to bind clouts about their heads; and then their kerchiefs being sick, must need tarry at home forsooth.” To which thus Nowell replied in his own language; “But who could fear any vanquishing at your councils, who, after so long sitting at Trident, hatched us out such a sort of goodly decrees, worse than addle eggs, as any popish lad meanly learned, sitting under a summer’s hedge, might in two or three afternoons right well and as well have written, as they are written and set forth by your worthy council. No, sir, your prelates sat not there about conning of articles of religion, or to dispute with heretics to vanquish them. A few lousy friars, whom no man would fear but in his pottage or egg-pie, did serve that turn well enough: and your great prelates devised the while, by that long consultation, how by sword and fire they might most cruelly murder all true Christians, whom they call heretics; and now do labour to put in execution such their bloody devices.”

Yet to fortify and arm our people against the decrees of this council, and that it might have the less regard taken of it here in England, there came forth seasonably now a book, entitled, A godly and necessary Admonition of the Decrees and Canons of the Council of Trent, celebrated under Pius IV. Bishop of Rome, in the years of our Lord 1562 and 1563 . Written for those godly-disposed persons’ sakes, which look for amendment of doctrine and ceremonies to be made by general councils. It was translated out of Latin; and imprinted at London by John Day, dwelling over Aldersgate, the 19th of February, 1564: no name of the author, but it seems to be done by archbishop Parker, or his special order. The method of the book is to set down the decrees in convenient paragraphs, and then to subjoin observations and answers to each. Near the beginning, the author writes thus, That if we diligently weighed a few words, viz. “that the council must be celebrated according to the form and letters of our holy lord Pius IV.” we should easily understand, that the bishop of Rome, with his council of Trent, mocked and dallied with all Christendom.

But what further our church and kingdom could say, for their not coming or sending to that council, and disowning it utterly, we may have recourse to a letter of Scipio, an Italian gentlemail, wrote to bishop Jewel, formerly his acquaintance at Padua, (where Jewel formerly went to study,) and the answer which he gave to the said Italian.

Scipio wondered that the realm of England alone had sent no ambassador to that general council, summoned by the pope for the settling of religion, when all other nations were there assembled: no, nor so much as excused their absence by any message or letter; but that we had altered, without any council, all the form of the ancient religion: the former arguing a proud stubbornness, the other a pernicious schism. That it was a superlative crime to decline the pope of Rome’s sacred authority, or to withdraw themselves from a council, being by him called to it. That it was not lawful to debate controversies about religion otherwise than in such assemblies: since there were the patriarchs, and the bishops, and the learned men of all sorts; and from their mouths the truth must be required: that there was a light of each church; anal there was the Holy Ghost. And that all godly princes still referred any doubt arising in God’s worship to a public consultation. That Moses, Joshua, David, Hezekiah, Josias, and other judges, kings, and priests, did not advise concerning the matters of religion, but in an assembly of bishops. That Christ’s apostles and the holy fathers held their councils. And Arius was vanquished; and Eunomius, and Eutyches, and other heretics. And by the same means the distractions of the world might be composed.

And how shall the bishop of Sarum answer all this specious discourse; as much as could be said surely on this point? It is worth reading the answer he made, which I proceed to rehearse from his own epistle to that nobleman. “That it was not for him to take upon him to answer in the behalf of the realm of England, by what advice every thing was done, seeing the counsel of kings were secret and hidden; and so ought to be.

And yet because of their old and intimate acquaintance, and because he saw Scipio desired it so earnestly, that he should briefly shew what he thought, and doubted not but that it would satisfy him, he proceeded thus: asking him, Why should he wonder, that no ambassadors came from England to that council, since not Englishmen alone come not thither? That he himself, who was a public person, and employed in the affairs of his commonweal, was not present at it. Why did he not as well wonder, that neither the three patriarchs of Constantinople, Antioch, and Alexandria were there? nor presbyter John, nor the Grecians, Armenians, Persians, Egyptians, Moors, Ethiopians, and Indians came not? For many of them believed in Christ, had their bishops, and were baptized Christians; nor had any ambassador come from those parts of the world. Or rather well would he see, that the pope did not call them; and that his ecclesiastical decrees took not hold of them. “That it was more to be wondered at, that the pope should call such men to a council, whom he had before condemned of heresy, and openly pronounced excommunicate, without hearing either them or their plea. The bishop said, he would fain be resolved, whether the pope’s meaning were, to advise with them in the council whom he accounted heretics, or else that they should plead their cause at the bar; or either change their opinion presently, or out of hand be condemned again. The former was denied heretofore by Julius III. to those on our side: the other was ridiculous, that the English should come to the council, only to be indicted, and plead for themselves; especially before him, who long since was charged with heinous crimes, not only by our side, but also by their own. “Nor did England alone seem thus stubborn: for where were the ambassadors of the kings of Denmark, Sweden, and the princes of Germany, the Switzers, the Grisons, the Hanse towns; those of the realm of Scotland, and the dukedom of Prussia: nay, the pope himself came not to his own council. And what a pride was it for one man, at his own pleasure, to assemble together all Christian kings, princes, and bishops when he listed, and require them to be at his call, and not to come himself. But perhaps Pius IV. the present pope, might remember what happened heretofore to John XXII. that came to the council of Constance pope, but returned cardinal. Therefore the popes had provided for themselves in the rear, and kept home, and had withstood all councils and free disputes. That above forty years before, when Dr. Martin Luther was cursed with bell, book, and candle, because he had begun to preach the gospel, and to reform religion out of God’s word, and had requested that his cause might be referred to a general council, he could have no audience: for pope Leo X. might see well enough, that if the matter should have come to a council, his own state might come in danger. “That indeed the name of a general council carried a fair show; so it were assembled as it ought; affection laid aside; all things referred to the rule of God’s word; the truth only aimed at. But religion and godliness be openly beaten down; tyranny and ambition established; if men studied faction, gluttony, lust; then was nothing more pernicious to the church of God. “That this that he had hitherto spoken, was as if that council subsisted somewhere, and were indeed a council, which he thought absolutely to be none, or surely very obscure. For we could by no means learn what was done there: what bishops were met, or rather whether any at all were met. That twenty months ago, when the council was first summoned by pope Pius, the emperor Ferdinand much disliked the place; Trent not being commodious enough seated for so many nations, nor able to receive so great a multitude of men as were likely to meet at a general council: and the same answer was returned from other Christian princes. Therefore that we believed, that all these things, with the council itself, were vanished away into smoke. “Next, he questioned the power of pope Pius to call a council, more than another bishop. That while the empire flourished, it was the proper right of the emperor of Rome to do it; but now, since the empire is lessened, and kingdoms by succession share part of the imperial power, that power was communicated to Christ, an kings and princes. That if the annals were searched, the memorials of antiquity laid together, the ancientest councils, the Nicene, the Ephesine, &c. were called by the Roman emperors Constantine, Theodosius, &c. And the popes of Rome, when Ruffine had alleged a certain synod against Hierom, he asked, Tell me what emperor caused it to be called? And accordingly bishop Jewel demanded, what emperor caused the bishops to be called at this time to Trent?

And that therefore this triumphant council was not lawfully called.

That pope Pius had done nothing rightly or orderly. And that in so saying, no man could justly find fault with our absence. “Then he went on to mention the wrongs the popes of Rome had done us. That they had, as often as they pleased, armed our people against their sovereign; pulled the sceptre out of our kings’ hands, and the crowns from their heads. They would have the kingdom to be theirs, and held in their name. That of late years they stirred up against us sometimes the French, sometimes the emperor. That it was needless to rehearse what the intention of Pius himself had been towards us: what he had done; what he had spoken; what he had practised; what he had threatened: nor by what course he made himself pope: by corrupting of cardinals; buying of voices; underminings, and ambushes: that he cast cardinal Carotta into prison, and there murdered him. And did he [Scipio] wonder that we came not to a man of blood, that purchased voices, that denied to pay his debts; to a simoniacal person; to an heretic? That it was not the part of a wise man wilfully to run into a place infected; nor to consult of religion with the enemies of religion. “That it was fit, that councils should be free; and that every man may be present that will. That in the Nicene, Ephesine, &c. councils, princes then were not called together in such a slavish manner, that if any one of them stayed at home, or had not sent ambassadors to the council, presently every eye was upon him, every finger pointing at him. That the popes in those times were so patient, as not to condemn them of contumacy. That this tyranny of popes was not yet grown up. That it was lawful then for holy bishops and fathers, as it stood with their convenience, to stay at home without prejudice. That Athanasius the bishop, though the emperor summoned him to the council at Caesarea, yet would not come: and in the Syrmian council, when he saw the Arians were like to prevail, presently withdrew himself, and went his ways.

Chrysostom came not to the Arian council, though the emperor called him, both by letter and message. That the bishops that met in a council at Constantinople, being called to a council at Rome, refused to come: and their excuse was, that they were to intend the charge and reformation of their own churches. “What if our bishops, added Jewel, gave now the same answer: that they could spare no time from their own sacred function: that they were wholly employed in setting up again their own churches: that they could not be absent five, six, seven years; especially there, where they should be able to do no good. For that our bishops were not so idle as those at Rome, that frolicked it in their palaces, danced attendance upon their cardinals, and hunted after livings. That our churches were so miserably wasted and ruined by them, that they could not be repaired in a small time, or with ordinary diligence. “That the pope did indeed but make a show of a council, and meant it not: and that he did nothing sincerely or truly. That that see was wholly supported by mere hypocrisy: which the less natural strength it had, so much the more colour it needed. That if the pope thought a general council so effectual for removing of schisms, why did they defer a thing so necessary so long? Why did they sit quiet thirty years together, and suffered Luther’s doctrine to take root?

Why did they assemble the Trent council with such reluctancy and unwillingness? more by the instigation of Charles the emperor, than of their own accord; and that they had been at Trent well nigh ten years, and had done just nothing. That the popes in truth were not in hand to keep a solemn council, or to restore religion, which they made a mock of: that which they intended, and sought, and laboured for, was to elude the minds of godly men, and the whole world, with a pompous expectation of a general council. “That they saw their wealth had been now a pretty while sinking; that their tricks did not find the same credit now as heretofore; that an incredible number of men did every day fall from them; that men did not now run to Rome in such troops; that there was not nowadays so high an estimation, or so dear a price for indulgences, blessings, absolutions, and empty bulls: that their mart of ceremonies and masses were slighted: that a great part of their tyranny and pomp was shrunk; that their revenues were slenderer than they were wont to be: that they and theirs were laughed at every where, even by very children: that their whole rest lay now at stake: that this was the force of God’s word; this the power of the gospel; these the weapons by which was overthrown every fortification raised against the knowledge of God: and this doctrine should be preached through the whole world, in despite of them all. “The merit-mongers’ shops waxed cold now at Rome: their wares, as if Porsenna’s goods were put to sale, were very low prized, and yet could scarce find a chapman. The indulgence-broker trussed up and down, and found no fools. Thence grew their grief; and this vexed the pope. They saw that this so great light broke forth from one spark. What was it like to do now, when so many fires were kindled in all places of the world; and so many kings and princes acknowledged and professed the gospel? And therefore councils were summoned, the abbots and bishops called to make a party.

For this they thought the cunningest plot to spin out the time for some years, to hold men’s minds in suspense with expectation; and many things, as it useth, might fall out in the mean time. Some wars might be raised: one of these princes might die, &c.: men’s minds might wax cool..... That nowadays the intent or scope of councils is not to discover truth, or to confute falsehood. But this hath been the only endeavour of popery; to establish the Roman tyranny; to set wars on foot; to set Christian princes together by the ears; to raise money, sometimes for the Holy Land, sometimes for the building of St. Peter’s church, sometimes for other uses, I know not what, or rather abuses all: which money was to be cast into some few bellies in gluttony and lust, &c. “That the abbots and bishops, upon whose fidelity, learning, and judgment the weight of this whole council, the discussing of questions must lie and rest, they were indeed grave persons, and had fair titles; but take from them these titles, the persons they bear, and their trappings, and there would nothing that belonged to an abbot or bishops remain in them: for they were not ministers of Christ, dispensers of the mysteries of God; applied not themselves to reading, nor to preach the gospel, nor to feed the flock.... but entangled themselves in secular businesses. They hid the Lord’s treasure: they took away the keys of the kingdom of God; they went not in themselves, nor suffered others. They slept, snorted, feasted, and rioted: clouds without water, stars without light. That they would not hear any of our men speak. “That in the last convention of the council of Trent, ten years before this, the ambassadors of the princes and free cities of Germany came thither with a purpose to be heard, but were absolutely refused: for the bishops and abbots answered, that they would not suffer their cause to have a free hearing, nor suffer controversies to be discussed out of the word of God. And that our men were not to be heard at all, except they would recant: which if they refused to do, they should come into the council upon none other condition, but to the sentence of condemnation pronounced against them. For that Julius III. in his bull of indiction of the council, declared plainly, that either they should change their opinions, or else be condemned for heretics, before they were heard: and that Pius IV. that had now a purpose to reassemble the council, had already prejudged for heretics all those who had left the Roman church, (that is to say, the greatest part of the Christian world,) before they were ever seen or heard. That they said, and said it often, that already all was well with them; and that they would not alter one jot of their doctrine or religion. Was this, said the writer, to restore the church to her integrity? Was this to seek the truth? Was this the liberty and moderation of councils? “Further, that whereas the world complained of the papal pride and tyranny, and believed that nothing could be amended in the church of God until he [the pope] were reduced into order; yet all things were referred unto him, as unto a most conscientious peacemaker and judge. He [Jewel] would not call him an enemy to the truth, ambitious, covetous, proud, intolerable ever to his own followers: that they would make him a judge of all religion, who avouched, that he could make injustice to be justice, and who commanded all his determinations to be of equal value with those of St. Peter himself: and that he said, in ease he carried a thousand souls with himself to hell, yet no man ought to reprehend him for it: and whom some of his own followers, viz. Joachimus Abbas, Petrarch, Marsilius Patavinus, Laurentius Valla, &c. did clearly pronounce to be the Antichrist: that all was referred to the judgment of this man alone. So that the same man is the party arraigned, and the judge: the accusers were heard from an inferior place, and the party accused sat in his tribunal, and pronounced the sentence concerning himself. “And that therefore Scipio at length (as the bishop applying to him concluded) seeing all things were most unjustly handled, nothing sincerely and fairly carried in council, he needed not wonder, that our men had rather tarry at home, than take so long and so idle a journey; in which they should both lose their labour, and betray their cause.”

And whereas he had said, “It was not lawful to make any change in religion without order from the pope and council;” the bishop replied largely to that. As, “That the state of God’s church was most miserable, if there being so many errors, so generally spread, so gross, so blind, so foul, and so perspicuous, and yet nothing could be done without the whole world should meet in a general council: the expectation whereof was very uncertain, and the event much more. That, as for our part, we did not fear and fly, but desire and wish for a council, so it were free, ingenuous, Christian; so that men did meet as the apostles did; so that abbots and bishops were freed from their oath, by which they were bound to the pope; and our men modestly and freely heard, and not condemned before they were heard; and one man might not have power to overthrow whatsoever was done. But seeing it was impossible, as the times then were, that this should be obtained, we, said the bishop, thought fit to provide for our churches by a national council... And that for themselves they had done nothing, but with very good reason; and what they saw to be lawful, and to have been practised by the fathers of the primitive church, without any reprehension at all. That therefore they had called a full synod of bishops; and by consent of all sorts purged this church of those excrements, which either the negligence or the malice of men had brought in. That they had restored all things, as much as possibly they could, to the ancient purity of the apostolical times, and to the similitude of the primitive church. And this, he added, was justly in their power to do: and because they could do it, they did it boldly.”

And much more excellent matter of our reformation, and in vindication thereof, did this learned bishop’s letter contain. Which is deservedly preserved at the end of father Paul’s history of that council; printed in English at London: worthy every protestant’s diligent perusal.

CHAPTER 37.

The kingdom and church vindicated against Osorius, a popish writer. Dr. Haddon writes in answer to him; and so doth John Fox.

Osorius printed in English: and Musculus’ Common Places. The Bible and other church books published in Welsh. Some miscellaneous matters. A strange effect of joy. The queen at Windsor this winter reads much.

THIS year came forth a state-book; being a necessary quarrel of this church, and defence of this country, writ in answer to Hieronymus Osorius, a Portugueze, who the last year published a malicious libel against England, and the reformation of religion here, by way of letter to the queen; intending to persuade her to return to the Roman catholic faith, as hath been mentioned already. The answerer, who seems to be pitched upon for this work by secretary Cecil, was Dr. Walter Haddon, master of requests to the queen, a man of great abilities in learning, and experience of the state and affairs of this nation, and withal had an excellent Ciceronian style: to be even with the said Osorius, whose Latin was the only thing that recommended his book. But his treatment of the queen, and her kingdom and people, was so rude and uncivil, and his arguments so weak and childish, that the said Haddon gave this short character of him, “That he was a most perverse, overthwart brawler, who besides a commendable facility in the Latin tongue could profit the public nothing at all.”

Haddon framed his answer in a letter to him, entitled, Gual. Haddonus Hieronymo Osorio Lusitano S.D. Therein answering all the trite objections of papists, then tossed up and down against the late proceedings of England, and clearing the steps that were taken by the queen and her council and parliament. And therefore very well worthy to have some account given of it in this place; having been drawn up by great deliberation, and overlooked by the secretary and sir Thomas Smith; and serving for a public vindication of this nation: the like to which I know none as yet set forth, except bishop Jewell’s Apology the last year. This choice letter remaineth among Haddon’s Lucubrations, published in the year 1567: but being out of the hands of most, and in Latin, I will give some brief account of it.

He told Osrius, the reason he wrote this letter to him was, to correct (yet without offence or bitter difference) his mistake of the state of England, taken up from false surmises and reports, and to rectify the opinions of others, which perhaps his writings had prejudiced. That whereas Osorius had ascribed the public decrees, made for reforming religion, to a great many uncertain obscure men, and excluded the queen from this transaction, it was to be attributed either to his dissimulation, or his ignorance of our customs. For the custom of England is, that no laws are made, to which the whole state is obliged to submit and obey, but by the assent and consent of the common people, the nobility, together with the approbation of the prelates of the church, and the command of the prince. Therefore, if any thing else had been told him, it was a lie in the author of it, and in him too much credulity.

He observed, how Osorius began with a terrible complaint, that a multitude of men, he knew not who, had estranged themselves from the truth of apostolical religion, and had brought in a new one, unknown before, but boasting much of pleasure and liberty: but that in truth that religion was most pestilent, and abounded with floods of innumerable evils. Then he assaulted the authors of this new religion; against whom he thundered out thick and horrible flames of reproaches, and that nothing could be thought more detestable than they. Then he roared out against the religion itself; that it was to be accursed, avoided, abhorred: and that the authors of it were murderers, sorcerers, over-throwers of commonwealths, enemies of mankind. But to this, Haddon challenged him to come to particulars, and to shew who these were, and wherein this religion came to have such a character. That for his part, he could not but lift up his hands to Almighty God, most heartily thanking him, that he had dispersed the deep darkness of the former times by the sunshine of the gospel. By the want of the knowledge whereof first, and afterwards the trusting in superstitions, we wallowed securely in the sink of sin; believing that, whatsoever wickedness we had done, to have it pardoned by the lead of the pope’s bulls, and by muttering over of prayers not understood. But the authority of the holy scriptures at length sounded in our ears, and so terrified our consciences, that, laying aside and casting away the inventions of men, we took refuge in the free mercy of God only; in like manner attending to that which was commanded by the prophet, to conform our manners to holiness and righteousness.

And whereas, in a long address to her majesty, Osorius advised, that she and all princes should provide and take care they were not dethroned by this new and hitherto unknown sect; Haddon shewed how she flourished in all prosperity, loving her subjects, and being beloved by them, and not perceiving the least air of those tumults vainly prophesied of by him. It is true, there had been some danger of a French tempest; but that was now pacified: and whence it first blew, it was easy to tell. [He means, not from the professors of religion, but from the Guisians, a bigoted popish faction.] Then Osorius mentioneth a sort of men lately come in, who were to purge the church from all the dregs of the errors of the schools, and to reduce it again to the sincerity of the institution of the apostles, and to represent to the Christian world the truth founded in the gospel of Christ, long since oppressed by gain and ambition: that the glory of God, obscured by the dreams of men, might be advanced by the clear and broad light of the holy scriptures. These men, whom he had thus scoffingly described, sometimes he makes sport with, sometimes shews his stomach against, and sometimes declaims and exclaims upon them: and this new sect was the enemies, which (as pests of this realm) he would have cut off from the queen’s majesty, and cast away. But Haddon, on the other side, esteemed these professors of the gospel to be the servants of God, sent from heaven to us, to awake us out of our sloth in these dangerous times of the declining world; that these men quickened our lingering, refuted our errors, and rebuked our impieties: and then biddeth Osorius see how wide his opinion of these men was from his.

But now Osorius begins to take the persons of the chiefest reformers to task; and asketh, if they were more perfect in all the praise of piety, than Athanasius, Basil, Ambrose, Hierom, and Augustin. Haddon replied, that these reformers, many of them, were of excellent learning and most blameless manners. But, not to make odious comparisons between worthy men, he asserted, in behalf of these modern doctors, that they did conspire with those venerable fathers, that they went the same way with them, and delivered the same sum of religion as they did: and if so, comparison between persons that agree was idle; if not, he bade Osorius shew wherein they differed. That Augustin complained, that in his time they were overwhelmed with floods of ceremonies, that the condition of Christians was almost worse than that of the Jews. Hierom wished the holy scriptures (which from the Romanists’ churches were wholly thrown off and hidden) might be learned by women and children. Basil employed all his leisure in learning himself, and teaching others, the holy business of divinity: and if monks had lived according to Basil’s institutions, not a man had touched them so much as with their finger. That Athanasius’s creed had a just veneration, nor was there any question between him and us. But Osorius had only named these ancient fathers barely, and no more.

He passed on to reprove our later reformers: beginning with Luther; whose ghost he tore with evil speeches, reproaching him for a bold, for a popular, nay, for a madman. That man of God, said Haddon, whom you thus miscal, rendered a sound and sober account of his faith in an august assembly before the emperor Charles; that madman stood safe against the wisest patrons of your church thirty years, however they raged against his safety.

As for Martin Bucer and Peter Martyr, they, by the great goodness of God to this island, were brought over hither. Let all their enemies lay their heads together; and then let us see what envy itself can lay to their charge, as to the lives of those reverend fathers. O golden pair of aged men, of most happy memory! Whose books by them made were the witnesses of their doctrine. And had as many approvers of their manners, as they had men that lived with them and knew them.

Then Osorius skippeth to our doctrine. And therein he disapproveth of our urging the holy scriptures only; and that we admitted only the holy scriptures to be our counsel, rejecting all human authors. If it were so, said Haddon, we should in that but follow the practice of our Lord Jesus Christ, the custom of the apostles, and of the ancient fathers in the first times of the church. But it was otherwise: for we made use of the opinions of the approved interpreters of all times, as our books testify, which openly confuted this calumny of his.

Next, Osorius played with our perfection, which some of ours, as he gave out, boasted of in their lives; and yet he said they were convinced of wicked deeds daily. But Haddon said, It was false that they arrogated any thing to themselves above the condition of human nature: and it was a slander to defame their conversations.

He found great fault, that such companies of virgins and monks, shut up to celebrate the glory of God, and defend the chastity of their bodies, were sent forth by us, and exposed to lusts and all licentiousness of life: and their houses disposed of for gain; and that laws were made that religion should not hinder lust. Haddon freely confessed those dens of wickedness were demolished by the good advices of some among us. Into which places tender maids were thrust, and poor boys, with so great a violation of manners, as his modesty would not suffer him to declare. That those workshops of wickedness had almost nothing else but pharisaical daily prayers in an unknown tongue; the rest of the things performed there within might be resembled to the old bacchanalia of Rome. And that therefore God had stirred up the minds of our people, who piously advised, that such numerous companies skulking in most corrupt corners should be called out from vices to virtue, from copulations not fit to be spoken, to honest wedlock: and the houses were disposed to the use of schools, universities, hospitals. And it was provided by laws that the sows should not again wallow in such filthy mire. This, he added, was a great and extraordinary favour of God; whereby more were drawn out of the dark kingdom of the Devil, than by all the little constitutions of the popish church heaped together.

Osorius then lamented the taking away of images and pictures, and such like monuments, out of the churches; which being gone, there remained nothing whereby the mind might be raised to the meditation of divine things. But, replied Haddon, our nation, remembering the blindness of the late times, was much afraid of the phrensies of idolatry: against which there was an express command of God. And the gospel bade us take heed of idols. But though this fear were not, yet the doctrine of our Lord Jesus Christ ought to have the highest authority among Christian men: whereby it was pronounced that God is a spirit; and they observe the right manner of praying to him, who worship him in spirit and in truth; and that God the Father sought such worshippers. And that this was the safe manner of praying, if we weighed whence it came, [i.e. from the inward man,] and whither it ought to return, [i.e. to Almighty God alone.] Nor did prayer want the help of outward things, by which it might ascend to the throne of God. Yea, that our outward man while it was too much busied in these shadows of holy things, the inward sense of the mind grew cold; and taking in the unwholesome nutriment of a too gaudy religion, lost the true fruit of celestial meditation. He said moreover, that the ancient church of the apostles and martyrs had nothing of these monuments; but in the declining of sincere religion, pictures by little and little crept in; and that former heat of religion glowing in men’s minds grew languid; and at last a degenerate school-divinity, deformed with superstition, came in: and presently all was stuffed with pictures and images: and that outward veneration of them, when in all places it increased, the inward worship of God fell off.

Osorius goes on, and writes, that in short all sacred things, ceremonies and sacraments, were overthrown from the foundation by us. Haddon smartly answered, This was too impudent an hyperbole: and proceeded to shew how false this imputation was, by giving account briefly of the divine worship and observance of rites in this nation. And first, because faith came by hearing, we had teachers of the holy scriptures sent forth to all the borders of our country to instruct the common people in all the offices of piety, and to teach them the true worship of God. Then we had a public form of prayer, collected out of the scriptures; strengthened by authority of parliament, (so we call the consent of the three estates of this realm,) whence we did not suffer any to depart, providing in both as well as we could, that the command of the Holy Ghost be obeyed, that saith, That he that speaketh in the church should use the words of God in it; and then, that all agree in one. Further, that we took care that the sacraments were, as near as might be, administered according to the precept of holy scripture, and the example of the ancient church, as our Lord Jesus Christ himself with his apostle instituted them. That all these things were propounded in our own tongue: because it would be a great madness to blatter out that before God which one knows not what it is: and which opposed manifestly that wholesome doctrine of St. Paul, with all the ancient examples of apostolical churches. Furthermore, that we performed the imposition of hands, the celebration of wedlock, the bringing of women lately delivered of child to church, the visitation of the sick, the burial of the dead, with solemn and public offices, composed according to the truth of scripture. And to these we added so much of ceremony, that all things were done in the church conveniently and in order, as we knew we were admonished to do. That of times, places, days, and other circumstances, there was in effect no change made with us. Nor in the whole of our religion was there any thing new, unless what before had either evident absurdity or express impiety. So that [whatsoever the other had most rashly and falsely affirmed] our church was not spoiled, neither of holy things, nor sacraments, nor ceremonies; but in every kind so much was kept, that he would treat us too injuriously, who should slanderously give out, that there was nothing of these remained, when nothing of them was wanting, needful to the true worship of God.

Another charge of Osorius upon us was, that we had skaken off the yoke of the pope. True, said Haddon; for it was too heavy for us or our fathers to bear. Nor did we acknowledge any superior bishop, unless our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom the holy scripture assigned this peculiar honour. Nor did we rend Christ’s coat, as Osorius had said; but we only picked a hole in the Roman bishop’s cloak. Neither opened we a way to sedition by casting off the pope, as he had said, but we shut up the way that led down to the greatest perverseness of manners, by the means of his licentious leaden bulls.

Osorius then fell upon the manners of the people of England, reproved their pride, their impudence; to which he joined their robberies, conspiracies, and all manner of wickedness. And that the former wholesome discipline was wont to correct men’s manners; but that in our times was gone, and therefore that divinity that was void of good fruit ought to be rejected. But Haddon answered, that this was false which he had taken up concerning the perverseness of our people. And were it true, he could never make out what he collected thence. Tares had always been mixed with the harvest. He led Osorius home to his own church, and demanded of him, if they of his communion were not guilty of sins enough.

And that therefore he might throw away his argument; which was either of no force, or was of equal force against him and his own church: nay, of more force: for if our people were to be compared with theirs, or our doctrine with theirs, we were ready to make the comparison as soon as he would. That as for our doctrine, he might most truly defend it to be the same with the apostles’, derived from the gospel itself. He required Osorius to shew him his church, and desired this might be the controversy between them, whether church was nearer to the apostles in sincerity of manners and truth of doctrine? And if he would accept of this challenge, he would presently join issue with him.

Then Osorius falls to exclaiming against our gospel, uttering all manner of evil speaking here. But Haddon bade him roar as much as he would or could, yet he should never effect it, but that the truth of the ancient and pure gospel would be preached to all by us. And that when we should come to stand before the dreadful tribunal of Christ the judge, and an account required of our faith, it would not be out of the decrees and decretals which Osorius so vehemently embraced, nor out of the Julians and Bonifacians, in whose authority their people acquiesced; but out of this very gospel which he had so pleasantly derided; the gospel, which their church had buried so long, but was restored publicly from heaven by the intervention of some of our pious and learned men. He shewed further, how the people of Osorius’s church had, instead of the gospel, some sermons preached by friars, who made declamations to the people after their manner at certain times, and at all other times were silent. And for the most part they used such tedious and trite forms of exhortations, as might invite the auditors to sleep, rather than regard what was said. In the holy things and the sacraments the people enjoyed their ease; nothing for them to do, and the priests performed the whole business by themselves in an unknown tongue. They went to mass, wherein they would have the very substance of religion placed: the priests indeed were very busy, but the people had no part therein but to look on. Nor did the gospel in the mean time come in to trouble them, and all exhortations out Of it were wholly silent. Once perhaps in a year they went to the Lord’s table, more in solemn ceremony than in a contrite heart. Nor was that done which the institution of our Lord Jesus Christ required, that his death be shewed forth until he came. Again, how much soever the people defiled themselves with sins, there was no public medicine of souls applied. They transacted all privately by whispers in the priests ears: and if the impiety were of a greater size, it was redeemed by lead, [i.e. the pope’s bull.] Such a various, manifold, and vast provision of ceremonies, that a greater outward pleasure of the senses could scarce be invented, while the amending the inward temper of the mind was little or nothing at all. And this was their service.

Then Haddon went on to shew what our divine service who professed the gospel was. First, there were among us constant sermons grounded upon the gospel: the authority whereof either brake the stubbornness of sin by the terrors of the law, or allured to virtue by the greatness of the proraises.

And in case any men neglected or cared not for these spiritual things, the magistrates caused them to be present at the holy services; wherein they heard not so much the interpretations of men, as openly perceived God and Christ sometimes thundering out threatenings against their sins, and sometimes offering their treasures of mercy. These recitations of the prayers were accompanied with variety of psalms, hymns, and lessons out of the books of both Testaments. So that he must needs he a most unhappy man, that could reap no private benefit to himself, when the word of God sounded so much about him. Then followed the sacrament of the holy table of the Lord, which was constantly used on the festival days. The minister of God called all publicly to come forth, who had agreeably prepared themselves for so divine a banquet. Some came forth, and kneeled humbly upon their knees, being alone by themselves, and left in the midst of the church; and when it was due time, they, in the eyes and ears of all, did openly declare their abhorrence of the naughtiness of their lives; and with one voice beg God’s pity and forgiveness. The minister bespake them with chosen places of scripture, partly declaring threatenings against sin, and partly opening the abundant fountains of God’s mercy. So that those who were to partake of the holy table did often tremble, and after being refreshed with the hope of pardon, were revived again. Such as had given a dangerous example, either by slandering of others, or by some profligate deed, were struck with anathema, [i.e. excommunicated,] that shame, and shutting them out of communion with others, might call them back to their duty again.

Thus Haddon laid the matter open in particulars, for every one to judge which of the two forms of religious services tended most to edification. He added one thing further, that there was more of sighs and groans in one access of ours to the table of the Lord, than in six hundred of their solemn masses.

Osorius insisted again upon the infinite wickedness of our reformed people, and quoted the old prophets who cried out against the impiety of the backsliding Jews, applying their words hither. But Haddon averred, that the greatest part of ours lived by most upright statutes; and many companies of people joined themselves to the true worship of God; and were as far distant from those impious courses of life which Osorius mentioned, as his speech was from all shame and modesty: and that if he would do any thing to purpose, he bade him compare the darkness of their times with the light of our gospel; and then consider what a difference there was between the one and the other, since in laying wickedness to our change, he did urge their own reproach, and his own slandering practice, too common throughout his epistle.

The last charge of Osorius was, that we were divided into sects; and that we were entered into consultations together how to destroy all God’s religion. So far from that, saith Haddon, that there was a perfect consent and agreement among us: which if he doubted, he required him to have recourse to the Apology, which the church had placed openly in the eyes of the Christian world, as the common and certain pledge or token of our religion. And bade Osorius refute it, if he could. But he could not, (he said,) nor could any of their party do it; however of late there was one, as well as he could, barked at it. And as for our plotting the destruction of religion, that was not possible to be done by us, who most steadfastly believed the immortality of souls. That that was an accusation he should lay upon some nation that doubted of that, if he could find any such in the Christian world. And to satisfy him further, he bade him remember, how firmly our nation had espoused the true worship of God and the sincere doctrine of the gospel, not only by their tongues and writings, but by their banishment, their hunger, their nakedness, by their blood, and life itself.

When Osorius towards his conclusion had writ, that he was longer than he intended, our answerer added, and more indeed than was decent too; especially in the learned ears of the queen’s majesty; whose sharpness and judgment he had been afraid of, if he had considered with himself, how much strength of reason and understanding she was endued with; that she read the holy scriptures much and often; that she compared the best interpreters together; that she collected every where the sentences of the most learned divines; that of herself she excelled in the knowledge of tongues: and that as she was of a prompt and sharp wit, so she added so much wisdom to it, as was scarce credible in that sex. And in a word, that she came to sermons; and that in these things her senses were so exercised, partly in reading, and partly in hearing, that she could as well teach him as learn of him. And then he demanded of him, whether he could have any hope, that this most religious and learned princess could be corrupted by his praises, or circumvented by his flattering speeches. And he told Osorius roundly, that those, whosoever they were, that had suborned him to be the accuser of the English nation, especially before the queen’s majesty, had grossly abused his easiness.

Osorius yet again rubs upon the fruits of our doctrine, and bids others take a view of them; and required religion to be esteemed by its fruits. But what fruits, said Haddon, would their church have, which was less fruitful than all others? But to comply with him; Let England then be considered, said he, in the condition wherein it was before, deformed with the filthy traditions of men; and be compared with England as it was afterwards, living according to the institution of the gospel. Let our annals be searched: let recourse be had to the monuments of our own memory: and let the queen be judge, and the times compared. Let her give sentence. But if that pleased not, he bade Osorius, if he had not heard it before, learn it of him, what the present condition of England was, that he might hereafter give no credit to the infamous stories of our enemies. We had, he said, a princess presiding over the kingdom, in every respect without compare; her court wanting no ornaments, either for the honour of her majesty, or for the safety of the commonwealth. The archbishops and bishops took upon them the office of preaching in their own persons, [a thing not practised in the popish church.] And being present in their dioceses had the care of all the churches. The nobility of the land did well accord among themselves; and the common people every way dutiful. And a very great tranquillity there was throughout all the realm. Others perhaps had related these matters to him otherwise; but he put him in mind of what his master Tully admonished, “That many men spoke many things, but it was not necessary to believe all.” And that our ill-willers told not what they knew to be true, but that which they would have to be so; because their eyes were in pain to see the extraordinary felicity of our state.

At last Osorius pretended great compassion for England; and that because his country Portugal and ours were neighbours and friends. But, said his answerer, if we were their neighbours and friends, why did he so load us with false crimes? Why did he say, “that we had drawn away the people from the most ancient and most holy religion; which was ratified in the blood of Christ, and remained to this very day, and carried them over to another cursed and dreadful religion?” He asked him closely, whether he himself believed what he said. He knew he did not: since in the first and best times of the church, there was neither popedom, nor buying of sins by leaden seals, nor the bargains of purgatory, nor the adorations of images, nor the wandering visitations of saints, nor sacrificings for the living and the dead in masses, and the like: for these disgraces of religion, in what times and by whom they crept into the church, he could not be ignorant, but dissembled all the while, basely to serve the ears of those of his own party.

And whereas Osorius would fain have persuaded the queen, “to relinquish the religion received by the common consent of the state, and to take up his; and that the way was easy to do it; that the glory of it would be eternal, and the whole world would applaud her;” Haddon said, it was a question whether this exhortation had more folly or impiety in it: for should the voice of a Portuguese, the epistle of one Hierom Osorius, break through and overthrow the sacred doctrine of the gospel, continually for more than thirty years (except the late turbulent six years) remaining among us; in which doctrine her royal majesty had led all her life; in which she had found God so favourable to her; in which she had enjoyed already a peaceable five years’ reign, flourishing in the greatest prosperity; in which had been the fullest consent of all the states; in which very excellent laws had been matte and established: should this single stranger, by a few rhetorical words writ to the queen, supplant this true and sincere worship of God, so carefully on all hands fenced and fortified by her majesty?

And if he hoped for any such success of his pains, he did but unwisely to entertain any such confidence. He might, if he would, write thousands of philippics; all the queen’s enemies might flock together, and all that envied and hated her, the great number whereof Osorius pretended to know. [For he had used it as an argument to the queen to forsake her religion on that account, because the papists in her kingdom were more than her subjects that professed the gospel.] Yet as God oftentimes before snatched her out of the hands of her enemies, so he still would preserve her from their malice, and would confirm her in the truth of the gospel, as he did daily; and finally would grant her everlasting glory, for her enlarging the glory of Christ by the gospel.

And whereas Osorius had by way of epilogue adjured and beseeched her again and again to banish from her the authors of this pestilent novelty, (as he called pure religion,) and to betake herself to his church, where, with a great deal of elegancy of speech, he placed the quire of all virtues; Haddon told him his labour was in vain: for what he called novelty of error, her majesty knew to be antiquity of truth; and that she humbly gave God continual thanks for it; and determined not to lay it down but with her life.

And that as for him, she thought him a mere stranger in the gospel, if he knew not all this before.

This notable responsory letter was sent by secretary Cecil (as it seems) into France to the learned sir Thomas Smith, the queen’s ambassador, to peruse it, and then get it printed there, as Osorius’s epistle had been. That such as had read that calumniatory writing might also read this; that right and justice might be done to the English nation. The said ambassador accordingly applied himself to the chancellor of Paris for liberty to print it.

But he shifted it off, pretending that Osorius’s epistle was printed by stealth without any permission of theirs. Nay the original copy had like to have been quite lost: for it having been put into the hands of Henry Stevens to print it, by some wile it was got out of his hands. And great difficulty there was, and application to the chancellor of Paris, by the said ambassador, before it could be retrieved again. In fine, at last it was printed anno 1563, either in France or elsewhere.

The censure which the foresaid ambassador gave of this book to Haddon himself the author, was, “That nothing could come from Haddon, which was not good Latin in the words, neat and smooth in the speech, and grave in the sentences. And that there was but one thing that he approved not of in that work; which was, that he had to do with an adversary that he so much overmatched who brought nothing but a bare imitation of Cicero, and was ignorant of the matter he handled” But Osorius, nettled with this answer of Dr. Haddon, not long after (being now become bishop of Sylva or Arcoburge) gave a reply to it in three books, which was all nothing else but a further and more bitter invective against England; wherein he would seem to post over (as Haddon told him) his whole malice against Luther and his associates: yet he did notwithstanding indict and accuse England; by express words rail on our bishops with most foul and false accusation; condemn the subjects in general of stiffnecked crookedness; our temples, our ceremonies, our laws, and our whole religion, with a shameless tongue and most insolent invective, did deride, condemn, and slander.

Here was work again for our learned apologist, who thought in honour he must not leave this cause of his country and the English church. But it is remarkable how he was dissuaded from it by some foreign Englishmen, and desperately threatened what danger and what work he would draw upon his own head, if he did not stop his pen, and let Osorius have the last word: for, (to continue our account of this controversy,) in the year 1565, one Richard Shacklock, M. A. of Lovain, set forth in English this letter of Osorius with high commendations in the preface, preferring it as far above Haddon’s answer, (except that he vouchsafed to call him a man of handsome eloquence,) as the light of the sun was before a link. It was printed at Antwerp, March the 27th the said year, with the title of, A pearl for a prince; which title the French translation had given it before. And it had the allowance of Cornelius Jansenius, professor of divinity of Lovain.

And in the conclusion of this book is an address to Mr. Doctor Haddon from Antwerp, trying to affright him from proceeding any further against Osorius: for they tell him, “How Nazianzen witnessed, that Valens the emperor, poisoned with the Arian heresy, after he had written with his own hand many words concerning the banishment of St. Basil, yet could not finish those writings, for so much as the pen did three times refuse to yield ink. However, being obstinate in his proposed malice, did not leave off to write that wicked decree, and to subscribe unto it, when it was written; till a great cramp or palsy came into his hand, which did strike such a fear and terror into his heart, that with his own hand he tore that which he had writ. And then Mr. Dr. Haddon was bid, for the love of God, to remember this fearful example.

And whereas he did not fear to write against Osorius at the first, because peradventure either he knew it not, or else had forgotten it, now seeing he did know it, and had it fresh brought to his memory, he was warned not to despise it. And that it should be a warning to him, whether he were moved of his own head, or pricked forward by the suggestion of others; whether he were in his own private parlour, or the public parliament house; to say nothing, write nothing, subscribe to nothing pertaining to the defacing of the truth; lest such a cramp took him in the hand when he should write, or such a palsy come into his tongue when he should speak: and so become a spectacle to all men. Further, they bade him enter into an humble confession of his own imperfection: and that in humanity he could do very commendably; but when he came to declaim in divinity, he could no more bestir himself than David in Saul’s armour.”

But that if he would not cease, they assured him, “That he should stir up so many adversaries against him, that whereas he was master of the requests, and for that cause ought always to be at leisure to hear petitions when suitors came to him, he should be fain to make them this answer; I pray you trouble me not, I must go answer Osorius in Portugal, I must answer Hosius in Polonia, such a man in such a country, &c. And that, if he would not make them such an answer, yet his brains should be busied with so many books and letters from his betters, that his mind should not be upon his charge.

And so he would be put out of his place for negligence, or else sent from the court to Cambridge for pity, that he might have more leisure to answer his adversaries, which he would not well like of.

Wherefore they prayed him to follow their former counsel: to stay himself; and to recompense his troublesome eloquence with charitable and quiet silence. And because he was master of requests, they prayed him to grant them this request; that he increased not his old fault with a new offence, nor made any new resistance against ancient verity. And that he might be the more afraid to abuse his hand in writing against Osorius, or any other catholic, they prayed him to turn the book named Symbola Heroica into English; where, among many other pictures, he should find a shaking hand with a pen leaping out of it, and this poesy written over it, Ulterius ne tende odiis; i.e. Proceed no further in hatreds.

And this heroical device they trusted would terrify him from the like vice.”

But notwithstanding, all this counsel, (childish enough,) such was Haddon’s zeal in answering the second angry and malicious book of Osorius, that in the beginning of his answer he said resolutely, “He stood in the defence of his country, and would persist therein so long as breath was in his body.” And indeed in this quarrel he ended his life: for he died when he had not gone half way in his confutation. Whether he had any foul play, I cannot tell; but by the warning given above, it may raise a suspicion; especially since he was at Bruges in Flanders, anno 1566, the last year of his life. He treated his adversary now more smartly than he had done before; but yet used him like a scholar. But with what success he dealt with him, John Fox will tell us, “that he so handled his matters with arguments and reasons, as he seemed not only to have conlured Osorius, but also to have crushed him all to pieces.” Where he left off, the said Fox was thought the fittest, for learning and divinity, as well as an excellent Latin style, to go on with the work: and so at length he finished it, by adding above three parts more than Haddon had writ to it; swelling to a pretty large book. And at last it was turned into English by James Bell, and printed by John Day, anno 1581, in 4to. Wherein are fully answered the malicious slanders and misreports raised in those times against our religion, and what was done in the reforming of the church of England justified. And to every thing that was writ, I make no doubt secretary Cecil was privy, and all went through his hand, and the writer had his directions, since the work was of such a public import, and he had concerned himself with this controversy from the beginning. Fox’s style was sharp, and oftentimes witty, (for so Osorius was to be dealt withal,) but he shewed also a great deal of good learning and knowledge in ecclesiastical and other history.

And thus much for this state-book of Haddon’s, with the history of it.

To this let me add another book of good use that came forth this year, printed by Reginald Wolfe, viz. Wolfgang Musculus his Common Places, translated out of Latin into English by John Man, provost of Merton college, Oxon, with an epistle dedicatory to the archbishop of Canterbury, who had lately placed him, in spite of popish opposition, in that college. It is a large folio, containing a good body of practical divinity, profitably and plainly handled, for the use and help. of the unlearned, not only laymen, but clergy, (of which sort there were many in these times,) as there were many translations of learned protestant foreigners’ writings now printed and published in England, very seasonable and useful: this book, among the rest, being judged by the learned to be of good service, for them that needed by orderly instruction to be taught the principal articles and rules of Christian religion, as they might easily conceive them, and faithfully keep them. It was the work of ten years, written with good advisement, tempered for their measure for whom it was prepared, as the preface shewed. As for Musculus himself, he was public reader of divinity at Berne in Switzerland; a man of most godly life; trained up in learning by the space of near sixty years; occupied in continual reading and expounding of scripture; having achieved thereby to such an excellency, as, the translator saith, he might be numbered amongst the most profoundly learned doctors that have written in the church of God.

Care was taken for Wales, the people whereof were very popish, very ignorant, and very sinful: for the redress whereof, and for the introducing among them the knowledge of true religion, the Bible was translated, or ready to be translated, into their mother tongue, and also the Book of Common Prayer, Administration of the Sacraments, and the Book of Homilies. And for the printing of these books, or any other in the Welsh tongue, tending to the setting forth of godly doctrine, the queen granted a patent for seven years to William Salisbury of Llanraost, gent. and John Waley of London, printer, and to their heirs and assigns, with a prohibition to all others; the bishops of Hereford, St. David’s, St. Asaph, Bangor, and Landaff, or any two of them, having knowledge in the said tongue, first perusing and allowing them.

Let me add these scattering historical notices of affairs that fell out within this year by way of brief journal.

In May the bastard son of the king of Navarre came into England from Guien, to see the queen and this country. But some thought it was partly for refuge, fearing displeasure there, because of ill usage of Ferdinando de Toledo.

In August the plague raged in London. So that by the 30th of that month there died about a thousand in a week.

The earl of Hertford, and the lady Katharine, daughter of the late Henry Grey, duke of Suffolk, that were both put into the Tower for their clandestine marriage, (she being of royal blood,) by reason of the plague were this month removed thence: he to remain with his mother, the duchess of Somerset, as prisoner; and she with her uncle, the lord John Grey, at Pyrgo in Essex; where not long after she died with grief.

September the 2d, William Whittingham, (sometime an exile, of whom much is spoken in the Troubles at Frankford,) now dean of Durham, preached at court. In November, the Portugal ambassador, lately in London, being gone thence for France, the queen writ him a letter thither, both of thanks and of excuse; and sent it to sir Thomas Smith, her ambassador, to deliver it to him: and withal she commanded him to tell him, that because he did desire, when he was here, to see her majesty write, she had subscribed her letter with a few other words; which as she wrote them, so, she said, she meant to perform the sense of the same.

November the 27th, the death in London was decreased to three hundred the last week.

The term was appointed to be kept at Hartford castle, because of the plague at London.

December the 29th, the French having elected the earl of Leicester to be of their order of St. Michael, with a companion, there had been great debate at court sundry times, whether he should accept of the said election: and sometimes it was intended he should accept it alone, and sometimes with a companion. And for that companion, sometimes the lord marquis of Northampton was nominated, and sometimes the earl of Sussex, and sometimes the duke of Norfolk: but, in the end, the queen herself meant to declare all. This variation cost near twelve days. But it seems the queen thought fit to have it refused at this time; notwithstanding, when, two years after, this honour was offered again by the French king after another manner, namely, that she might bestow the ensigns of that order upon any two whom she pleased, she then bestowed them upon the duke of Norfolk and the said earl.

The cold was now so great, that it gave both the queen and her secretary Cecil a disease called the pooss, which affected the head. Upon the secretary it was so much, that he could not see. The queen was cumbered with pain in her nose and eyes, so that she could not sign any letter nor do any business; otherwise in good and perfect health.

Perpetual frosts from the 16th day of December to the 29th, and how much longer I know not, so that men ordinarily passed over the Thames on the ice; which they had not done since the eighth year of the reign of king Henry VIII. which was almost fifty years ago.

In the month of March died the lady Poyntz, whose husband had been a great officer and favourite with king Henry VIII. Her death I should not have mentioned, but because somewhat happened very strange but a little while before her departure She had married one Dyer, a second husband, whose carriage to her was so inhuman, that it brake her heart with sorrow.

While she lay sick, he allowed her not the necessary help of physic. And to add to her grief, she seemed to lie also under the queen’s displeasure.

However, her majesty, hearing of her great sickness, took pity upon her, and sent her a kind letter, and 50l. to buy her apothecary’s stuff; together with which came another letter of comfort from the queen’s secretary: with all which she sent Santon, her messenger, to Wells, where the said lady then lay. The messenger came to her, March the 21st, when she had almost lost her hearing, her sight, and speech; and on which day she died. But as soon as the messenger had delivered his message from the queen, and her letters, together with the secretary’s, were read to her, she presently recovered perfect hearing, perfect sight, and a perfect voice; which continued with her till her breath failed. She appointed in what order her majesty’s letter and the secretary’s should be answered; and after she had put her hand to them, and with her own hands taken and kissed and delivered those letters, she presently died, with memory, speech, sight, and hearing perfect, until the last: as sir Nicholas Pointz, her son, gave account in his letter to the secretary.

The queen abode this winter at Windsor, where she had retired a good while before, for avoiding the danger of the plague in London. Here she still followed her studies in a constant course with her schoolmaster Ascham: who was so extremely taken with his royal mistress’s diligence and advancement in learning, that once he brake out, in an address to the young gentlemen of England, “That it was their shame, that one maid should go beyond them all in excellency of learning and knowledge of divers tongues. Point forth, as he made the challenge, six of the best given gentlemen of this court; and all they together shew not so much good will, spend not so much time, bestow not so many hours daily, orderly, and constantly, for the increase of learning and knowledge, as doth the queen’s majesty herself. Yea, he believed, that beside her perfect readiness in Latin, Italian, French, and Spanish, she read there at Windsor more Greek every day, than some prebendaries of that church did read Latin in a whole week. And that which was most praiseworthy of all, within her walls of her privy-chamber she had obtained that singularity of learning, to understand, speak, and write, both wittily with head and fair with hand, as scarce one or two rare wits in both the universities had in many years reached unto.”

And he added in this his transport, that among all the benefits that God had blessed him withal, next to the knowledge of Christ’s true religion, he counted it the greatest, that it had pleased God to call him to be a poor instrument in setting forward these excellent gifts of learning in this prince: whose only example, said he, if the rest of the nobles would follow, then might England be, for learning and wisdom in nobility, a spectacle to all the world beside.

CHAPTER 38.

Matters between France and England. New Haven surrendered by the English. Motions for peace between the two crowns. The rudeness of the French ambassador’s men in Eaton college.

Matters with the Low Countries. The duke of Wirtenburgh to the queen about marriage. Matters with Scotland. The Scotch queen’s marriage. NOW we shall proceed to continue our relations of matters between France and England this year. March the 29th, the court still meant to make sure at New Haven. Neither had they any apprehensions or fears, that any sudden force should there prevail against them.

Matters with France now stood thus. The prince of Conde, head of the French protestants, had made firm promise, not to agree to any peace with France without consideration of the queen: and his ambassador here was advised to put him in remembrance that she looked for the same. A certain nobleman ratified the accord of the prince; and it was also consented to by fifteen other principal noblemen that were in Normandy, that the first accord should be kept; which was, to make no peace without the queen’s majesty’s consent.

But Conde having now made peace with the French, (besides the former difficulty,) the French required him to procure the English to leave New Haven. And this he did now endeavour, together with the French ambassador, as though they had not put it into the English hands, to detain it till the French had restored Calais to them. The queen’s principal secretary, therefore, the better to instruct the English ambassador to treat with that prince, sent a copy of the treaty with the said prince; which had been stayed some time out of tenderness to him, that it might not fall into the hands of his enemies: but now (that prince being as he was) the ambassador had it sent him speedily. And the secretary told him, he might be bold to say, that he and the admiral had especially covenanted, that New Haven should not be delivered until Calais was restored; and that the queen meant not so to be abused. In April, monsieur Bricquemault came ambassador from the prince of Conde, to propound offers for the surrender of New Haven, upon other terms than the delivery of Calais; and the last day of the month departed. And having taken leave of her majesty, he went to speak to the lord Robert Dudley apart; and with great asseveration said, that if the queen refused the offers he had made, and would of herself devise no others, he knew certainly that she should never have better. The French ambassador also privately sent the secretary the like message. But the court took all this but for good French brags.

As yet we were prosperous at New Haven, having met with fifty-four merchant ships, coming out of Britain and Guien, laden with wine and salt, and gave them stabling (as the secretary wrote to the English ambassador) in New Haven. The lading of those ships were very meet for the victualling of that place; and therefore would be demanded. Some other adventurers had likewise met with five or six other of like sort, and brought them to Plymouth and Portsmouth. These last were stayed, for that the French had stayed a number of English ships at Bourdeaux. But the French ambassador shewing the copy of letters from the queen-mother to Monluc, the governor of Guien, for the delivery of the same, and another letter from Monluc for the discharge of the English ships, order was given from the English court for the delivery of the French ships which were in England.

The French ambassador about this time privately sent the secretary word, that if the English dealt after that sort, they should look to have the siege afore New Haven within fifteen days after his advertisement. But the secretary could not tell whether to believe it or not.

Some little time ago the queen set forth a declaration in English, in justification of her doings in France. This declaration the French had used their pleasure in varying of; and so set it forth in French: but very false.

Upon this, two copies were sent to the English ambassador there, by which he might certainly avow all others, published contrary, to be mere falsehoods. And so he was ordered to signify to them where he was.

In May, certain Frenchmen were sent to New Haven, to set the ships on fire, that had been taken; but these were taken, and confessed the whole matter. Whereupon the English sent for some of the ships from thence.

Others also were taken there, that had a determination, which they also confessed, to have betrayed the town. Whereupon the earl of Warwick, the governor, joining thereto a late proclamation made at Paris, for victualling the camp, to expel the English out of New Haven, had by honest means in like manner expelled all the French out of New Haven; and was stronger hereby by 2000 men, that is, (I suppose,) hereby making room for so many more English soldiers.

The fortification at New Haven was now so advanced, that the English did but desire to receive some honour by repelling the Frenchmen, if they would but assault them.

July the 6th, the French made proclamation to license all Frenchmen to invade the English, during the time that the English should keep New Haven. And July the l3th, a proclamation was issued out from the queen, to notify the French proclamation made the 6th day, with a like licence for England, while the French should keep Calais.

In July, the mortality was in New Haven; and the French made their approaches two ways. And yet had the death not been so great as it now was in the town, they should repent them (as the secretary wrote) of all their travails. But new succours were daily sent: and the English admiral was now upon the seas, to bid the enemy a good breakfast.

But notwithstanding all the English resolution hitherto, with all their confidence, provisions, charges, and successes, on the first of August came the news of the surrender of this place; seeing it was not possible to be kept longer by reason of the plague. And since (as the secretary wrote to sir Tho. Smith) it pleased God Almighty to visit it with such incurable infection, being, as it seemed, a den of poison, it was well bargained to part with it. This plague was brought into England, and the latter end of August raged in London, about a thousand in a week dying.

The same month sir Nicolas Throgmorton, the queen’s ambassador in France, was put under restraint. And the queen, to be even with the French for this injurious dealing with her ambassador, lodged the French ambassador at Eaton in sir Thomas Smith’s old lodgings, very commodiously, but under restraint; indeed, better lodged than ever he was in England, and at liberty to walk and ride whither he would. And so he used to ride much abroad.

In this plague the French hostages were put to some custody abroad; but not as prisoners: two of them sent to sir Rich. Blunt’s house near Reading; the other to Mr. Kenelm Throgmorton and Mr. Caroo.

Divers attempts were now made against the isles of Jersey and Guernsey.

For the preventing of any danger thereby, the English sent thither ships and men.

In November, sir Tho. Smith, still in France, had orders to conclude a peace with that crown.

On St. Stephen’s day, a new ambassador from France for peace had audience. He laboured also for delivery of the hostages. After his being with the queen, he had discourse with the lord marquis, lord admiral, lord chamberlain, the secretary, and Mr. Wolley. He used a long harangue of half an hour to move them to peace; not omitting therewith to set forth the power of France, the union of all their faction, and so forth: and concluded in an article, that he with sir Thomas Smith, the queen’s ambassador, had allowed. On the English side, by order of the queen’s majesty, it was answered, that they allowed very well of peace, and had a long time thought thereon; that they saw no other means more reasonable, for the honour of both parties, and continuance in amity, than to have the same treaty renewed which was made at Cambresy, between king Henry and the queen; the ministers whereof were known to be the best counsellors for both the realms, all being yet alive, saving one. And concluded peremptorily, that no other manner of peace could be honourable or sure for both parties.

The French ambassador lodged in Eaton college, near the court at Windsor: where it happened that he and the provost of the said college had a great falling out. The provost was a little before commanded to keep his gates shut, according to the order of the house. Malvisier, an agent from France, being with the ambassador half an hour after eight, and the gates shut, the ambassador sent to the provost for the keys: who answered, that he would not break the orders of the house. But after a multiplication of language on both sides, Malvisier departed to the back gate, and climbed over, to go to his lodgings. Two or three others, disposed to do the like, came back to the provost’s door with the ambassador’s servants, and brake open his door upon him per force with a form; and the ambassador, with a sword in his hand, though not drawn out of the scabbard, was the first that entered, and Du Bois, his secretary, with another sword; and took the provost violently out of his chamber, having but one young scholar in his company, and took the keys, and opened the gates at their pleasure.

In the morning the ambassador sent two of his servants unto the secretary, to complain of the provost, fashioning a tale of the provost’s refusal: with a remembrance, by the way, that they were forced to break open the door.

The secretary answered, that he would send for the provost, and hear him also; and if it should appear that he used himself otherwise than became him, he should bear the blame. Which speech of his they liked not; but said, he was partial to the provost, and suddenly departed. Being scarcely gone from the chamber, they met the provost coming to the secretary to complain, as he had cause. And the Frenchmen passing out of the castle, [of Windsor,] met with two of the provost’s men, whose hearts, as it seems, did rise against them for misusing their master; and so they fell to some quarrelling, and drawing of their swords. But there was no hurt on either part. Upon this the Frenchmen came back to the secretary’s chamber with another cry; and finding the provost with him, who knew nothing of the matter, the secretary sent for the knight marshal, to examine the matter; and if he saw cause, to commit the provost’s men to prison: which though the marshal found no great cause, yet it was ordered so to be. After this fray, the ambassador sent to have audience, alleging, that he desired to speak with the queen before Malvisier should depart: and perceiving that it was but about that brabbling matter, he was deferred until Monday, considering the festival days of Christmas. Wherewith he was nettled, and sent Malvisier away.

Upon this it was meant, that the ambassador should be removed from Eaton, and be taught to provide his lodgings with his own money, as the English ambassador did in France.

Thus these haughty French spirits could not restrain their rude and turbulent behaviour in a strange country; and that even when they came to make peace. It was but a little before this disturbance, in this same month of December, that such another instance of these Frenchmen’s heats and indiscretions appeared. Which was thus:

The queen had sent one Steukley with a squadron abroad to the seas for Florida: who afterwards, in November, came to the court with certain French captains, whom he took coming from thence, by some of his ships, which he sent out against the French. Steukley put the chief of these French captains, his prisoners, to liberty upon his faith, conditionally, that he should speak with no Frenchman. But yet the prisoner stole to Eaton, to speak with the ambassador there. Steukley hearing thereof, sent for him, and beat him. Whereupon the ambassador hearing thereof, sent to the secretary to complain. And the secretary rebuked Steukley roundly, although the other did reasonably justify what he had done. The day following, the ambassador’s secretary came to know what the secretary had done: who told him how he had rebuked Steukley, and what his answer was. Well, said the Frenchman, my master will, advise the king, who will revenge it. What? replied the secretary, you are too hot; you speak herein but foolishly; using the word sottement. Why, quoth he, call ye me a fool? No, said the secretary, but I tell you what I think of your words. Hereupon he departed fumingly. And so the ambassador conceived much offence against the secretary. We shall pursue these French affairs when we come to the next year. It was likewise chiefly upon account of the alteration of religion, that Spain and the Low Countries were ready to pick quarrels with England. Somewhat whereof I will relate, as I find in some letters of state that now passed.

The regent and estates of the Basse countries in the month of December commanded, that none of the English cloths should come into the country before Candlemas, for fear of the plague, as was alleged. And they spread there very evil rumours against the English nation for pretended lack of justice, for pillage of their ships, and such like maritime affairs. And, indeed, some cause they might have in this time, when the adventurers and privateers of the English haunted the seas so much, and missing of French vessels, might seek for French goods in Flemish ships. But surely their complaints were augmented by malice and fraud, to sow division between the English and the king of Spain; and especially by the Esterlings, and such as would have had our merchants less favoured in Antwerp.

Hereupon it was thought meet to appoint an extraordinary commission, to hear and determine their complaints summarie; and also to send Dr. Lewis or Dale with a report of all the orders and judgments given in their favour, since the death of the bishop of Aquila, the late Spanish ambassador. And there was an intention of sending an ambassador to reside in Flanders, instead of Spain. For now in December sir Thomas Chaloner, being dangerously sick, without hope of recovery, but by returning, was revoked; yet upon the consideration and offer made to that king to send another thither, or into Flanders. And here it was judged more needful for an ambassador to be.

Towards the latter end of December, Dr. Dale, a civilian, departed towards Flanders, to make answer to the clamorous complaints of that country against this, for lack of justice, and for depredations. And further, a commission was made to Lewis, Weston, Huick, Mouse, learned doctors of the laws, to hear and determine such kind of complaints summarily. And the last day of the said month arrived a secretary from Flanders, named Detorre, with matters of expostulation for spoil upon the seas: which indeed was hard to avoid in that time, considering the Flemmings did so continually colour the Frenchmen’s goods. And but two days after, this secretary was heard.

But on new-year’s-day the intercourse of trade opened; the order of the regent aforesaid being it seems revoked, that forbade the intercourse till Candlemas.

The duke of Wirtenburgh, a German protestant prince, had lately friendly offered his service to the queen, in case she were minded to marry. To which, January 27, she gave him this courteous and princely answer: “That although she never yet were weary of single and maiden life, yet indeed she was the last issue her father left, and the only of her house: the care of her kingdom, and the love of posterity, did ever counsel her to alter this course of life. But in consideration of the leave that her subjects had given her in ampler manner to make her own choice, than they did to any prince afore, she was even in courtesy bound to make that choice, so as should be for the best of her state and subjects. And for that he offered therein his assistance, she graciously acknowledged the same, promising to deserve it hereafter.”

Now something of the matters of Scotland. The security of the affairs of England, both of religion and the civil state, depending very much upon the assured friendship of that neighbouring kingdom; hence it was one of the queen’s great cares to look to that quarter. The queen of Scots was popish, and the dauphin of France’s widow, guided much by the Guisian faction in France, a fatal enemy to queen Elizabeth and the reformed religion.

Therefore, as an ecclesiastical historian, I shall give some brief notes of the queen’s endeavours and practices with that queen and state, to countermine France. And these notes are not vulgar and common, but the more to be esteemed and depended upon, being taken out of papers of state and ambassadors’ instructions. During the affairs at New Haven between the French and the English, the French began, (as well in respect of the death of the duke of Guise, the Scotch queen’s uncle, (the bond of her affection,) as for the discourtesy she and her subjects had received lately, by the detention of her dower, degrading Hamilton, duke of Castelheralt, from the duchy, and taking from her nation their places in guard,) to suspect her falling off from their alliance to the English.

Therefore now in their letters they made her liberal promises; press her with the memory of ancient amity, and solicit her by La Croch (sent from her uncle of Lorain, the cardinal) to match with the duke of Austria, on whom the emperor would bestow the county of Tyrol for her dowry; seeking by these means to work her and the catholics of Scotland a party in their quarrel.

But this revealed to the queen of England by their own instruments, and the Scotch queen’s directions, Randolph was sent forthwith from hence to that queen of Scots: the end of whose service was to hinder the marriage treated of by the house of Guise for her, with that person of the house of Austria.

In the mean time, the queen, who took great care of securing her frontiers against Scotland, being jealous of the French’s invading her that way, in the month of July made the earl of Shrewsbury, a man of great power and influence in those northern parts, her lord lieutenant in Yorkshire, Nottinghamshire, and Darbyshire. And when Cecil, the queen’s secretary, sent him down the commission, he let him understand, she did it out of her singular confidence reposed in him. She also at the same time signed him a bill to retain an hundred persons. When she also licensed the lord Robert Dudley (afterwards earl of Leicester) to retain the same number.

About the same time she constituted the earl of Bedford lord lieutenant for the counties of Northumberland, Cumberland, Westmorland, and the bishopric of Durham. This earl was governor of Barwick, and the queen’s chief general there.

And in August, the queen, on pretence of better securing that her piece of Barwick, appointed the earl of Shrewsbury to levy two thousand men; whereof sixteen hundred to be raised in Yorkshire, and the remaining four hundred to be raised in the bishopric. Which when the said earl had signified to the earl of Bedford, he forthwith conferred with the high sheriff of the county palatine, and other worshipful persons of the same: who told him, that it was never heretofore seen, that the bishopric should be charged with the sending forth of any, since the same was the strength and refuge appointed wholly and altogether to come to aid this piece of Barwick upon any necessity, and the unpeopled frontiers there; and that in taking any away from them, they did so much decay and diminish their own force.

Randolph, the queen’s agent, (as was said before,) was now stayed at Edenburgh, or rather committed to sure keeping; and Mr. Tomworth at Dunbar. The earl of Bedford therefore, August the 20th, desired the earl of Shrewsbury to get his sixteen hundred men ready at all times, and to be by him commanded. For that the queen had commanded him to have all things in a readiness to provide for war, and yet to preserve good peace.

And now we proceed to give some particulars of Randolph’s message to the Scotch queen. He was sent to advise her about her second marriage; “Her sister of England desired her to take such a person as might content herself, love her people, and continue the amity with England. The two first were left to the direction of herself and council. But as to her marrying with that foreign prince beforesaid, that queen Elizabeth disliked of it; since it was the work of the cardinal of Lorain, an enemy to her. And that such a match would endanger the private amity and concord of the two nations, and the advancement of the Scotch title to succeed to the English crown.

And that the states of England had upon the rumour of this endeavoured to have somewhat concluded against her. And therefore queen Elizabeth advised her not to hazard the nowamity and the future expectation. But if she inclined to marry, to elect some such of noble birth within England, as might, in respect of his country, give assurance to the nobility and the commons of future tranquillity: and so by that means to advance herself to succeed.

Which the queen promised she would further. And that therefore she, the Scotch queen, would not respect only the content of her own affection, and the honour of her uncle, that in her first marriage, and by his advices then, had hazarded her best hopes; but have regard to the peace of her people, and the amity with her next neighbours; from whom she had the fairest expectations. Which must be done by choosing her an husband within this isle, and not a stranger.”

She seemed to receive this friendly counsel with fair acceptance; and the further consideration hereof was left to her own care and secrecy.

But she cleared her uncles and herself from any purpose to match with the house of Austria; and desired to know, what person the queen of England liked, or which not. And then, how she meant to proceed to declare her title to succeed to this crown. To which the queen, in her second instructions to Randolph, answered, that she liked such as might be fittest to increase and continue amity; and that must not be a stranger. For with Spain, Austria, France, would be the like jealousy as afore. And that for declaration of her title, it depended upon her marriage; which effected to the queen of England’s content, she, the queen of Scots, should be satisfied with all reason in the other.

For the English agent had forthwith gone back to England for more full instructions both of the quality of the person, and declaration of the Scotch queen’s title, intended by her sister upon the marriage. He had scarce returned the foresaid answer of his sovereign, by which she desired the eye of her sister (the better to endear her to the affections of her people) to be cast upon some noble person of England; and that withal she should be declared by parliament either sister or daughter heir to her majesty, deceasing issueless; but the French queen and her uncle, understanding this project by Du Fois, the French ambassador here, dissuaded her from it, as a match too base and dishonourable for the height of her parentage, estate, and their alliance: and knowing that with women counsel prevaileth much less than bounty, they offered her by the lord of Schelton (so she would observe the old and mutual respect with them, against their common ancient enemy) new assurance and present payment of her dower and pension; wines for her provision without impost or custom; arms and artillery, when she should need; the band of men and guards to be restored to her nation; her merchants to enjoy their privileges enlarged, and her servants (more than before) admitted to their suspended pensions.

In this court of faction and want, no sooner was this offered, than enforced to that height, that the queen was almost distracted amidst the importunity of so many private ends, profit, liberty, and revenge. Some said, the queen’s spirit could not descend to match below herself; and to move her from her dignity was unfriendly, suspicious, and in a subject dangerous; and respects of profit in princes not so fit, as of honour. But should she yield to marry an English nobleman, it must be for the best; and that best being the man her sister queen Elizabeth so much esteemed, it would be strange she should part with him, (for by this time they had some inkling of the lord Robert Dudley.) And for him to be divorced from that worthy room wherein his affections were already placed, it would but match him either to disloyalty or dislike: and therefore that these improbabilities proved it rather a show of good-will in queen Elizabeth, than a good meaning. And for strength of her title by parliament, alas! said they, what one will establish, another may revoke: but her disparagement by such a match would be without repair. Whereas to marry in her own rank would increase honour and alliance, such as might make her neighbours fearful to offer indignity; and enable her to retain her own, and recover her right, if it should be opposed. That therefore this new offer from Austria, or the renewed suit from Sweden, by his ambassador then at court, were not to be neglected.

Such opposite counsels had queen Elizabeth to encounter. But the Scotch queen, for all this, as yet stood firm to be directed by her sister; referring over this business to a conference at Barwick the year ensuing. These Scotch matters were earnestly pursued by both queens the two following years; as shall be shewn in due place.

But this year a treaty for order of justice for the marches between both kingdoms was concluded, by the commissioners of the queen of England, Henry lord Scroop, warden of the west marches, and sir John Foster, of the middle marches; sir Thomas Gargrave and Mr. Rookley, doctor of the law; John Maxwel, of Terraglish, warden of the west marches, sir John Ballendine, and justice Clark, commissioners for the queen of Scots.

Randolph was still the queen’s agent in Scotland; and in the latter end of December wrote a letter to the English court, wherein this was one part of his news, that the lord treasurer of Scotland was put to open penance for getting a wench with child.

CHAPTER 39.

The second book of Homilies. The queen at Cambridge. The disputations and speeches. Mr. Fox’s letter to her. Harding and Dorman their books. A book in English against the council of Trent. A convocation; prorogued. THE first book of Homilies the church of England had enjoyed ever since the year 1547, abating the five hard years of queen Mary’s reign; and at the end of that book a second volume was promised. Which this year, 1564, came among the curates and ministers of the parishes, to be read (as the first book) every Sunday and holyday, where there were no sermons through the inability of the curates. For though’ this second volume were printed the year before, and finished the year before that, yet all the churches hardly came to be fully supplied with them till this year, as I find by a journal of a minister of London of that time. This second book was prefaced with a serious admonition to all ministers ecclesiastical; “That they above all things behaved themselves faithfully and diligently in their so high a function; that is, to read the scriptures aptly, plainly, and distinctly, to instruct the youth in their catechism diligently, to minister the holy sacraments gravely and reverently, and prudently to choose out such homilies as were meet for the time, and for the more agreeable instruction of the people committed to their charge: and where the homilies were too long, to divide the same; and to read one part in the morning, and the other in the afternoon, &c. That so their prudence and diligence in their office might appear, that the people might have cause, to glorify God for them, and the readier to embrace their labours.”

Among other things the curates were here admonished to do, this was one, that when they should find less fit lessons appointed out of the Old Testament to be read in their order, for Sundays or holydays, they should, according to their discretion, choose more edifying lessons taken out of the New in their stead. By which passage it may seem that this admonition, and consequently the whole second book, was wrote and finished before the queen’s first parliament. For in the act of uniformity then made, this was then provided for, and the alteration of the lessons for the Sundays, as it was in the old Common Prayer Book, is taken notice of in that act, as one of the alterations confirmed by that act. So that I wonder that clause was not left out of the admonition, printed after the Sunday lessons were corrected.

Yet I must not conceal, that Dr. George Abbot (afterwards archbishop of Canterbury) did reckon this liberty granted in the said admonition to be in force even in his time; and that by virtue thereof ministers might change some lessons of the Old Testament (and especially in the Apocrypha) for others out of the canonical scripture to read to the people, when they happened to be appointed to be read on Sundays or holydays; saying, “It is not only permitted to the minister, but commended to him, if wisely and quietly he do read canonical scripture, where the apocryphal upon good judgment seemeth not so fit; or any chapter of the canonical may be conceived not to have in it so much edification before the simple, as some other parts of the same canonical may be thought to have. For the words will very well carry both these.”

Upon what subjects the second book of Homilies should treat, the several titles at the end of the first declared: yet upon divers of them there be no homilies at all; as against Covetousness, Anger, Envy, and Malice. But to make amends, there be some other homilies added: and in the year 1569, on occasion of the popish rebellion in the north, were six other homilies framed and joined, against Disobedience and Wilful Rebellion; with a prayer for the queen, and a thanksgiving for the restoring peace and quietness upon the ceasing thereof.

In the queen’s progress this year, she visited the university of Cambridge on the 5th of August, remaining there five days, entertained with speeches and disputations, and in taking her view of the colleges. As proper questions were prudently prepared for the queen to hear at the disputations now to be held before her, so the ripest and most learned men were selected for the disputants. On the third day a philosophy act was kept by Thomas Byng, then of Peter-house, afterwards master of Clarehall: who gave these two political questions; Monarchia est optimus status reipublicae.

Frequens legum mutatio est periculosa.

The opponents were, first Thomas Cartwright, sometime fellow of St. John’s college, then fellow of Trinity, (who afterwards made himself more known by his avowed opposition to the established government of the church of England.) The others were, Chaderton, fellow of Queen’s, Tho.

Preston, and Bartholomew Clerk, fellows of King’s. Reports have commonly been spread, that the cause of Cartwright’s setting himself so openly against the hierarchy as he did soon after, (to the great disturbance of the peace of the English church,) was from a disgust he took at this time; as though the queen shewed more countenance to the other disputants than to him. But by the Relation of the queen’s reception at Cambridge, (now in the hands of a learned member of that university,) there appears no clear ground for any such discontent. For the queen is said there to have approved them all; only that Preston pleased her most; and was made her scholar, with the settlement of a yearly honorary salary on him.

The divinity act, which was kept on the fifth day by Mr. Hutton, public professor of divinity, was upon these seasonable questions, for the justifying of the reformation of religion lately made; Major est scripturae quam ecclesiae auctoritas.

Civilis magistratus habet auctoritatem in rebus ecclesiasticis.

To the former question were these doctors and heads of the university opponents; Hawford, vice-chancellor, Pern, Pory, Baker, and Newton. The doctors Stokes and Beaumont opposed upon the second; and should have been joined by the doctors Goodman, Kelke, and May; but night coming on, and the queen being to speak to the university, there wanted time for them. Hutton acquitted himself to admiration. The great strength of the opposition lay upon Dr. Perne; who yet gave the queen some offence, by pressing the church’s power of excommunicating too warmly. After the disputations were finished, Cox, bishop of Ely, determined on both questions. Whitgift, that great divine, being not yet doctor, bore no share in this day’s solemnity.

At the queen’s parting, she made them an elegant speech in Latin, “Encouraging them to study, promising them that she would, as well as her ancestors, do some work, while she lived, to express her esteem of them; but that, if she died before she should accomplish her promise, that she would leave aliquod opus egregium, i.e. some glorious work, to be done after her death; whereby both her memory might be celebrated to posterity, and that she might excite others by her example, and make them, the scholars of that university, more cheerful to apply their studies.”

The university orator, William Masters, in his speech had an expression to recommend that university to her, the rather, by reason of the great antiquity of it, being, as he said, much ancienter than the other of Oxford; meaning thereby no offence to that famous university, but only to commend to the queen’s esteem the university where she now was; as having no mean or obscure beginnings, but high and illustrious, nor lately shot up, but founded many long ages ago. But this passage, howsoever, was illy taken by some of the Oxonians. So that two years after, when it fell out the queen visited them, a little tract was presented to her majesty by them, entitled, Assertio antiquitatis academiae Oxoniensis; wherein it was endeavoured to be proved, that the university of Oxford was much ancienter than that of Cambridge. This soon after (that I may here briefly touch this little piece of the history of learning) stirred up John Caius, a learned antiquarian, of the other university, to write a treatise, De antiquitate Cantabrigiensis academiae, in two books, which came forth in the year 1568. And this was answered again by Brian Twine, of Oxford, in a book called, Apologia antiquitatis academiae Oxoniensis.

I shall say no more of the contention occasioned by the orator’s speech: but as for the queen’s speech to the university, copies of it were gotten; and one of them came to the hands of John Fox, who intended to enter it into some history of her, and of the beginning and progress of her happy reign, which he was then preparing. But on occasion of this speech, and her gracious visit of that university, and her countenance shewn to learning and learned men; and considering also upon what good grounds both religion and the public state were established by her happy and wise government; that learned and good man, in a very elegant Latin epistle, entertained her to this tenor; (whereby may be seen in what good condition England now was, and how happy the queen by this time had made her people:) Ut vulgaria illa praeteream, quod in ipsis statim felicissimi regni tui auspiciis, tot periclitantes cives, et homines extorres ab exilio revocaveris; quod patriam ipsis, nec solum ipsis, sed patriam quodammodo patriae reddideris, Angliamque jamjam paene expirantem luci ac vitae suae restitueris; quod pacem tuis illis auspiciis partam pergas quotidie studiis ornare et artibus; bonis legibus suum vigorem revocas, noxias tollis, salutares sufficis, nocentes et otiosos in ordinem redigis, latrocinia et praedonum agmina, quibus regnum tuum foedis modis hodie exundare dicitur, compescis, miserosque exaudis, collapsa restauras, nec monetam solum depuratam, sed mores hominum multo magis deformatos, repurgas; postremo, cuncta suo, et plusquam suo, nitori restituis, ac caetera id genus permulta. Quae, etsi per se beneficia levia non sint, et permagna etiam in aliis monarchis videri queant, tuarum tamen laudum nescio quo pacto, nondum satis magnitudinem exprimunt.

Certo multo majora haec, omniumque maxima sunt, quod inclyta tua celsitudo rem ecclesiasticam non minus quam publicam, propugnas tam fortiter; quod religionis curam atque defensionem in te suscipis tam clementer; quod saevas persecutionurn faces extinguis, conscientiis diu interclusam libertatem apperis: templum Dei et evangelicae doctrinse gloriam illustras et provehis; videlicet, modis omnibus hoc agens, ut profligatis sensim veteris superstitionis reliquiis, sincera evangelii veritas ad nativum suum nitorem redeat. Declaravit id nuper egregia vox illa ac responsio majestatis tuae ad quorundam preces reddita theologorum, de modo videlicet vestiendi. Qua voce quantam uno in die universae ecclesiae pepereris faustitatem, quantum piorum omnium animis solatium, quantum posteritati beneficium, quantum omnibus temporibus lucem, tum tuo insuper nomini quantum quamque immortale decus, quovis aere perennius, attuleris, vix aestimari poterit. Ingratae omnium Anglorum linguae ac literae futurae sunt, si patiantur tam divinum hoc, caeteraque multa tuarum virtutum trophaea, ulla temporum vetustate abolescere.

Accedit ad hunc cumulum singularis porro majestatis tuae erga literarum studia favor; in quibus excolendis provehendisque nunquam tam propensam te declarares, nisi quod ipsa in eisdem exculta tam eleganter, et perpolita fuisses. Sensit id nuper felix Cantabrigia: nec dubito quin olim et Oxonia nostra idem expectatura sit. Persensimus praeterea et nos, etiamsi illinc abfuimus, ex oratione majestatis tuae Latina Cantabrigia tum habita, quae nuper ad manus meas inter caetera historiarum rerum monumenta, pervenit, non indigna, ut mihi videtur, quae transmittatur posteritati: atque etiam transmittetur, siquidem tua patiatur sublimitas. Interim hoc unum mihi dolet, quod cum plenam quandam historiae tuae descriptionem meditemur, multaque habeamus congesta, at multa rursus desunt, quae adhuc nobis incognita, non nisi per tuam ipsius majestatem sciri possunt.

Etsi possent, nullius possint melius quam tuo ipsius commentario describi.

Quod utinam ab excellenti ingenio tuo per hoc vitae tuae tempus et spatium possit impetrari. Sed de his excellentiae tuae praeconiis alias (volente Christo) nobis videndum erit.

This letter of Mr. Fox, affording a pleasant retrospect view of the queen’s reign hitherto, and other matters belonging to her, may deserve an English translation of it, for the sake of vulgar readers, though it reach not the elegance of the language wherein the author composed it. “To let pass (most noble queen) those commonly known things, viz. that presently at the very beginning of your most fortunate reign you saved so many good men at home in great danger of their lives, and called back so many more abroad from their banishment; that you restored their own country to them, and not only to them, but the country in a manner to itself; and England, then almost at the very point of expiring, to its light and life again: that at your said first happy beginning, having procured peace, you do now every day improve it in good studies and arts; to the good laws you give again their force, the bad ones you take away, and supply their room with such. as are wholesome; the mischievous and the idle sort you, reduce to order; robberies and the bands of spoilers, wherewith your realm is reported at this day in a foul manner to swarm, you restrain; the afflicted you give an ear to; what is fallen and gone to decay you build up; and not only money embased, but also the manners of men much more corrupted, you purify and refine. In a word, you restore every thing to its own brightness, nay, more than its own: and many other things of this kind you do: which although of themselves they be not ordinary benefits, and such as in other monarchs might seem very great, yet, I know not how, do not sufficiently express the largeness of your praiseworthy deeds. “But assuredly these things that follow are much greater still; and of all the greatest, that your excellent highness defendeth so vigorously the ecclesiastical state no less than the commonwealth; that you take upon you so affectionately the care and protection of religion; that you quench the direful flames of persecution; that you open a liberty to consciences so long shut up; that you illustrate and promote the temple of God and the glory of evangelical doctrine; that is, by all means endeavouring, that the remainder of old superstition by little and little be destroyed, the sincere truth of the gospel return to its native brightness. This was lately declared by that excellent voice and answer of your majesty given to the petition of some divines concerning the habits.” [Which being this year more strictly enjoined the clergy, had occasioned certain of them to make some address to the queen.] “By which words then by your majesty spoken, it can scarce be thought how great prosperity you did in one day bring to the whole church, how great comfort to the minds of all godly people, how great benefit to posterity, how great a light to all succeeding times; and moreover to your own name how great and how immortal an honour, more lasting than any monument of brass. The tongues and learning of all Englishmen would be stained with ingratitude, should they suffer as well this godlike thing, as all the other trophies of your virtues, by an antiquity of time to be abolished. “Hither must be added your majesty’s singular favour towards learned studies. In the adorning and furthering whereof you would never have shewn yourself so inclinable, had you not been so exquisitely furnished and dressed yourself with them. Happy Cambridge lately perceived it; and I doubt not but hereafter our Oxford also will look for it. And further, we all, though absent thence, well perceived it, by your late speech delivered there at Cambridge; which is come to my hands, (among other monuments of historical matters,) not unworthy, methinks, to be transmitted to posterity: and so it shall be transmitted, if your highness give way to it. In the mean time this only grieves me, that when I am preparing a full account of the history of you, and have many collections serving thereunto, many things are wanting, which are yet unknown to me, and cannot be known but by your majesty. And if they might, they could not be described better by any than by your own commentary. Which I heartily wish might be obtained by your most excellent wit in this time and space of your life. But of the commendations of your excellent parts I shall elsewhere (God willing) have occasion to speak.”

Had not Mr. Fox been some way or other stopped in this labour which he designed, who had, no question, great advantages of setting forth queen Elizabeth, and her proceedings in this great and noble work of the reformation, and the progress of it, there had been no need of this performance of mine.

The English papists, among their other endeavours to bring in their religion again, exercised their learning in writing books in English, to confute, as well as they could, the established religion; and to reconcile the people to a better opinion of theirs. One of these writers was Dr. Harding, whose book against Jewel came this summer into England from Lovain; and falling into the hands of Nowell, dean of St. Paul’s, four days after, being the fourth Sunday after Easter, while he was preaching the Paul’s Cross sermon, he read some passages of it, and confuted them in the pulpit. Which he thus related himself afterwards; “That finding therein certain notable untruths and absurdities, he did bewray them to the auditors, willing them by that example to give less credit to the rest. Wherein he had good reason, as he said, seeing the papists, who had not read the book, in corners magnified it above the stars. Whereby he (as he suggested himself) did in effect give neighbours warning to beware of a thief.” We shall hear more of this book of Harding’s under the next year.

Dorman also now set forth a book entitled,.A Proof of certain.Articles in Religion, denied by Mr. Jewel. Which the said dean Nowell answered.

The articles which this author took upon him to prove against Jewel’s negative were these four, as they are set down in the front of his book, viz.

I. That the bishop of Rome is the head of Christ’s universal church here in earth; and that within the first six hundred years after Christ’s departure hence, he was so called and taken.

II. That the people was then taught to believe, that Christ’s body is really, substantially, corporally, carnally, or naturally, in the sacrament.

III. That the communion was then ministered under one kind.

IV. That there was mass said at that time, although there were none to receive with the priest. And in the conclusion he assigned no less than twelve causes, whereby he acknowledged himself to have been stayed in his old Catholic faith that he was baptized in, wishing the same to be made common to many for the like stay in these perilous times; as it ran in the titlepage. The book was printed at Antwerp, and dedicated to Tho. Harding, D.D. and dated at Aquicinctum, the seat of his banishment, as he called it.

And this year came forth, Feb. the l3th, from John Day’s printing-house, an useful book, (though of no great bulk,) in quarto, being a consideration of those things that were concluded in the late council of Trent. It bore this title; A godly and necessary Admonition of the Decrees and Canons of the Council of Trent, celebrated under Pius IV. bishop of Rome, in the years of our Lord 1562 and 1563. Written for those godly disposed persons which look for the amendment of doctrine and ceremonies to be made by general councils, lately translated out of the Latin. The design of this book was to open the eyes of many good people, who out of a veneration of general councils were apt to adhere with an implicit faith to the determinations of this council of Trent. The method of the author (who is unknown) was first to set down the decrees, the canons, and other things, as he received them from Trent; and then his own distinct answers or animadversions. In the preface is taken notice of the specious pretence of that pope in calling again a council of cardinals, bishops, and monks, at Trent; wherein he with great glory and magnificence promised both the purging of doctrine from all error and heresy, and also a speedy amendment of manners, and such as should be worthy of the gospel, as well in the clergy as laity. And to amuse the people the more of their good intent, they of the clergy accuse themselves of dissolute life, and make themselves guilty before the whole world, as the fountains and authors of all evil, as the acts of the council declared. And now, who would not to his power help so godly and holy an enterprise? But, saith the writer, if the canons and decrees, that came at length out of the council, were examined, every Christian man should easily perceive, that these good holy fathers intended nothing less; yea, rather, all their labour was only to this purpose, to oppress sound doctrine; and that being oppressed, stubbornly to defend idolatry, superstition, and abuses, which had been brought into the church of God. And hence the author declared his purpose to be, that seeing many men hung in doubt and suspense by expectation of this council, and the authority thereof, and earnestly hoped for a simple, godly, and.plain determination of the controversies of religion; he thought he should do a worthy act briefly and perspicuously to declare by the word of God, what was to be judged of their disputations, decrees, and canons, and what was to be hoped for of the event of this council; namely, that all Christians were called to it by Pius, not as lost sheep, to be sought and healed of the pastor; but the safety of the faithful to be laid in wait for, and the sheep of Christ like to be torn in pieces, even as it were of wolves in sheeps’ clothing.

The convocation met this year, October the 6th, in king Henry the Seventh’s chapel, by authority of the queen’s brief to the archbishop of Canterbury. And Dr. Yale, by the archbishop’s commission to him, did continue and prorogue the present convocation in the state it then was in, to the first day of May next, and to that place, with further prorogation of days and places, if need were, to be made in that behalf.

CHAPTER 40.

A diary of various historical matters of the court and state falling out this year, John Hales’s book. The Scotch queen’s match with Leicester. Spanish and French matters. LET me take this place to insert a diary of various historical matters, taken chiefly out of advices and private letters sent from the secretary of state to sir Thomas Smith, ambassador in France, containing several intrigues of court, and transactions of moment in the state.

April the 22d, the treaty with the French took place: and this day it was proclaimed in London. And the 23d day, a sermon was made at St. Paul’s on the occasion, and Te Deum sung. And the same day it was published at Windsor in the queen’s presence, going to church; having with her the French ambassador: so as nothing wanted to shew contentation. Yet her majesty inwardly to the secretary, and other her counsellors, shewed much misliking; especially, as the said secretary guessed, because the money was no more for honour’s sake; [which was to be paid for Calais, I suppose;] Camden therefore thought fit to conceal the sum, and saith only, “a certain sum of money;” and upon payment of 620,000 crowns, the hostages to be delivered.

On the said 23d day, being St. George’s day, the French king was chose of the order, and so was the earl of Bedford and sir Henry Sydney. And the earl of Hunsdon was to bring over the order into France; and so was to have commission to require the oath jointly with sir Tho. Smith, the queen’s ambassador resident there. And the same joyful day the French hostages were put to liberty at Windsor; where she challenged Nantoillet [one of the hostages, as it seems,] for his practices in Oxford; provoking evil subjects to be worse in popery than they were. But she right wisely and nobly thus concluded her reprimand, that she would wrap up all such matters with oblivion, because of peace. And as soon as the treaty was engrossed and ratified, sir Nic. Throgmorton, the queen’s joint ambassador with Smith, [who was kept in some durance, for meddling too much,] was to be returned. And therefore all the haste possible was made therein for his sake.

Malvesier, the French ambassador, in this treaty, had a chain given him weighing threescore and odd ounces of gold, and was well used in England.

The 29th of April, the two treaties of peace with France were sealed with the queen’s ratification, and delivered to the ambassador in formal sort by the secretary, according to the advice of Dr. Wotton, an old ambassador; and with the testimony of a public notary. Together with the treaty, the queen wrote a letter to the French king, signifying that she had chosen him of her order, and that the earl of Hunsdon should come with it; and that he should be joined in commission with sir Tho. Smith, her ambassador resident, to require the oath.

John Hales, clerk of the hanaper, a learned and active man, and an earnest protestant, had secretly made a book in the time of the late parliament.

Wherein he had taken upon him’ to shew no small matter, viz. the title to this crown after the queen; having confuted and rejected the line of the Scottish queen, and made the line of the lady Frances, mother to the lady Katharine Gray, only next and lawful. He was in this month of April committed to the Fleet for this boldness; especially, because he had communicated it to sundry persons. The lord John Gray was also in trouble for this business. Besides, the said Hales had procured sentences and counsels of lawyers from beyond seas, to be written in maintenance of the earl of Hertford’s marriage with the said lady Katharine. [For which they were both put into the Tower.] For this dealing offended the queen very much: the secretary, after he had related all this in a letter to sir Thomas Smith, made this prayer: “That God would give her majesty by this chance a disposition to consider hereof; that either by her marriage, or by some common order, they her poor subjects might know where to lean and aventure their lives, with contentation of their consciences.”

In the beginning of May, Hales’s matter came to be examined and inquired into by the secretary; a business he had no great mind to be concerned with, and could have been well contented to be delivered of. But yet he told his friend, sir Tho. Smith aforesaid, that he would go uprightly, neither ad dextram nor ad sinistram. He himself was not free of suspicion, by reason some of these persons engaged in this business had access to him in their suits. But as for Hales, he was found after examination to have first made and procured books in defence of the earl of Hertford’s marriage, [which was no more than a contract by their mutual assent,] and likewise, in approbation of the title of succession for the lady Katharine. And in this matter he so dealt, that both himself and others were like to find trouble.

He was committed to the Fleet, and narrowly escaped going to the Tower.

Nudigate, another in this business, was committed to custody to sir John Mason. And the lord John Gray was in custody in court. We shall hear more of this by and by.

One article in the late treaty of peace with France created some trouble to the court, namely, that commerce should be free. There had been a stop made of the intercourse, that is, the trade betwixt this kingdom and the Low Countries; wherein the English traded chiefly with the clothing manufacture. The French merchants at this juncture would have struck into this trade by some means or other. And the French king instructed the French ambassador residing here, to make strong and earnest motion about it: which he did in the month of September. This motion was by no means liked by the English; and the queen wrote a letter at large about it to Smith, her ambassador in France. The sum of the French’s demands in this point was, to exact by the treaty, that although the English had and did forbid both their own merchants, and those of the Low Countries, the trade of the Low Countries, [as the duchess of Parma, governess of those countries, had forbid English cloths to be brought thither,] yet the French might now enter into the trade, wherein they never heretofore did meddle; but now, partly to pleasure them of the Low Countries, partly, or chiefly, to procure a gain by monopoly, they would exercise that negotiation. This made this court think it necessary now to return to the trade of the Low Countries, [the English having lately upon this prohibition removed their mart to Embden in Friesland:] for though it were to great purpose to divert some part of their trade from thence, and was seen to be possible; yet the matter was not so foreseen, considering it fell out upon a casualty, that our country should be presently able to endure the holding out. One of the greatest lets was the lack of the revenue of the customs for the queen. The second was the sudden stay of the people here at home, that belonged to cloth-making; as the secretary in private letters signified the politic considerations of the state about it.

And therefore now upon the return of the queen from her progress in the north, the court thought to come to some conclusion with the Spanish ambassador concerning the affair of the intercourse. Which ambassador began the motion for it before the said progress: now upon her return he renewed it again, and required a new communication. Which accordingly soon began this month of September, between the Spanish ambassador, for the Flemings, and sir William Petre, sir John Mason, and secretary Cecil, on the English part.

In this month of September, upon the death of the emperor, the queen intended to send some person thither to condole and congratulate. And reports were whispered in the queen’s privy chamber, who should be sent in this employ. Some said that sir Henry Sydney was to be the person; some, sir Nicolas Throgmorton; some, sir Nicolas Throgmorton and Cecil the secretary should go together. A few said, that sir Nicolas Throgmorton and my lord Robert should go. But more was meant than condolence or congratulation. It was an intention for marriage. But the secretary, for his present sickness and affairs at home, was excused; and Throgmorton would go with none but the secretary. So he was laid aside. And in October sir Henry Sydney was named again; but being in Wales, he must spend much time before he could be ready. So, as it was the secretary’s advice, time being so far spent, it was thought convenient to stay the ambassade, and to condole only; and to send hereafter to congratulate the coronation.

September the 23d, the emperor being dead, it was resolved his funerals should be here honourably celebrated within six or seven days hence. And so they were, the solemnities beginning October 1, and ending the 3d. The mourners were, the lord treasurer, the earls of Sussex and Huntingdon; the lords Strange, Darnley, Herbert, Lumley, and Hunsdon; Mr. Solicitor, Mr. Vice-chamberlain, secretary Cecil, Mr. Sackvile, and Mr. Throgmorton.

And the bishop of London preached: who made so good and discreet a sermon, that it was resolved it should be printed both in English and Latin.

The queen was at great charges with these exequies of the deceased emperor.

In October the lord Robert was made earl of Leicester; and his preferment in Scotland [to match with that queen] earnestly intended.

And Randolph, the queen’s agent in Scotland, was instructed to shew the Scotch queen, that her majesty’s kind dealing with the earl of Lenox [in letting him peaceably pass into Scotland at this juncture] gave such general distaste, that she was fain to adjourn the parliament, [which should have met about this time,] against the opinion of her council and commons; lest they should in this time of offence question the queen of Scots’ title, and press the queen of England to conclude somewhat against it. Which, by some good courses to content the English, might be altered against their next sitting. And to work this, she had given order to the earl of Bedford at Berwick, to meet with the commissioners of Scotland to treat the marriage for the earl of Leicester, whom she had made an earl on purpose.

November the 18th, the earl of Murray and lord Liddington met at Berwick, and treated with the earl of Bedford for the said marriage: but differed upon the matter of his advancement: and they writ to know, whether the queen of England meant it truly or no.

In November, the Spanish ambassador and the secretary, with some others, agreed upon articles of intercourse. No vember 19, they were sent to the duchess of Parma. But the English court began to find, that the English commodities would be well enough uttered, though the intercourse should not be opened for the Low Countries: for they found the strangers ready to carry all our cloths. But the inconvenience was, that all our own merchants should perish.

In this month the lords of Murray and Liddington were upon the frontiers, treating friendly with our wardens for border-matters. But that was thought but a colour to deal upon another matter; namely, to commune concerning a marriage for the queen [of Scots with the earl of Leicester, as it seems.] And this month also the Rhinegrave was on his way from France hither, with the order [of St. Michael] for the earl of Leicester.

To this month of November the queen continued her displeasure to John Hales, for his foolish attempt (as the secretary called it) in writing that book, so precisely against the queen of Scots’ title: he remained still in the Tower, and in some danger for a particular passage. The lord keeper also [concerned in that business] was kept from the court, and from intermeddling with any other thing but the chancery. Whereof surely, said Cecil to his correspondent, the [state] affairs took great harm; and he [the lord keeper] himself not void of peril by heaviness of mind.

November the 21st, the lord John Gray [another under a cloud for meddling in the matter concerning the queen of Scots] died at his house at Pyrgo. Of whom men reported, that he died of thought; but his gout was sufficient to have ended his life.

In this month the lord Arundel [lord high steward of the household] remained as a prisoner in his own house. His offence was, that being miscontented with sundry things, as he said, of interruption in his office, he surrendered his staff, with sundry speeches of offence, to the queen’s majesty. Whereof he was afterwards sorry. “But,” said the secretary, “I wish he had better thought thereon before.”

Since his committing he offended again, by using his house too openly for the resort of strangers to him, But afterwards he used his imprisonment circumspectly, and made all means to crave favour; but his suits were heard slowly, because he did not acknowledge himself a faulter.

This month the earl of Hertford [who had for some time remained a prisoner in the Tower for the business between him and the lady Katharine Grey] remained prisoner with sir John Mason; and the said lady Katharine [who had been removed from the Tower to the lord John Grey, her uncle] was now with Petre [secretary of state.] December the 9th, the queen fell perilously sick. Her distemper came to that which they call diarrhoea. They feared a flux. But the 15th day, though she was somewhat weakened, but in health, she would attend her affairs. The 16th, she was very well. But for the time she made the court sore afraid. The pious reflection the secretary made upon it was, “Thanked be God for both: for of both we take good. Warned by her sickness, and comforted by her recovery.”

December the French ambassador coming from his master with offer to the queen for two of her courtiers to be admitted to the order; on Saturday, December the 16th, or on Sunday the 17th, he had his answer concerning the queen’s acceptation of that king’s offer for the two rooms of his order.

Secretary Cecil, December 16, writes by order of the queen to Murray and Liddington, to hinder the matter of Darnley with that queen; and that her title should be declared by parliament upon her marriage with Leicester, after the queen of England was married herself. And so her desire granted, to be declared either filia adoptiva, or soror reginae, i.e. adoptive daughter, or sister to the queen.

December the 29th, being Sunday, the Spanish ambassador presented the queen a writing, signed with the hand of the duchess of Parma. And the 31st, he received the like from the queen. So as by calculation the intercourse was made on new-year’s-day. And the English commissioners were to be ready at the sea-side about the 26th of January; viz. the earl of Sussex the chief, Mr. Doctor Wotton the second, and Mr. Haddon the third.

In the same month, great suit was made by them of Bruges to have our merchants to keep their fairs there. The count of Egmond sent and writ hither for that purpose. And our merchants, upon a stomach against Antwerp, were well disposed to the said place, and the haven was now also made, and would serve very well. But the trade to Embden not to be forsaken, ne forte Romani, &c.

December the 29th, the French ambassador was with the queen, to deal in two principal matters. The one, to know her pleasure for the offers made of the king his master, to choose my lord of Leicester, or any others to be named by her, to be of the French order. Whereunto the queen signified, that she resolved to have the earl of Leicester to be chosen for one; but for the second place she would hereafter advise the king herself. The second matter was to know her pleasure in the former suit made, that the French king’s subjects might resort with commodities from the king of Spain’s Low Countries hither. Wherein about ten days past he had a long debate with the council, and would not be therewith satisfied; although they shewed him what sir Thomas Smith, ambassador with the French king, had written; and how the said English ambassador found the king and his council satisfied with his answers made. But now the council had a very ready answer for him; that is, because they had not prohibited the French but for a season during differences with Flanders. But being now at an accord with them, he should see that liberty should be given shortly to all persons; and then the French might do their pleasure. This knowledge given him of this accord of the English seemed to answer him fully; and he said he was thereof fully glad.

In the same month, means were now made, that sir Nic. Throgmorton should go to the French ambassador with report, that upon instance made by my lord of Leicester, her majesty would name my lord of Sussex for the second party [to enjoy the French order.] A parliament was lately in Scotland; wherein nothing was done, but the restitution of the earl of Lenox: for, for my lady’s claim to Angush, by reason of the greatness of the earl of Morton, being chancellor, nothing was attempted.

The earl of Lenox’s friends wished, that the lord Darnley might marry with the Scottish queen. And there was a device to bring queen Elizabeth not only to allow thereof, but also to move it to the queen her sister. But there was however no disposition thereto in our queen: but she rather continued her desire to have the earl of Leicester preferred that way: for which purpose the earl of Bedford the last month met at Berwick with the lord Murray and the lord Liddington: but yet the meeting covered with other matters: but now of late it was from thence renewed; to know with what condition the queen’s majesty would prefer him. Wherein at present no full answer was given. She was very desirous to have this earl placed in that high degree, to be the queen of Scots’ husband: but when it came to conditions which were demanded, then she was remiss of her earnestness.

December 30, the proclamation was made for the opening of the intercourse. But the frost now was so violent, that it was feared, that weather would so shut it up, that no ships should pass or repass.

The queen now fully recovered of a great cold, the same 30th day came abroad; and would sign letters formerly drawn up to the French king, and her ambassador sir Tho. Smith.

The queen’s displeasure continued still towards my lord of Hertford and the lady Katharine. And the lord keeper remained yet (as he did before) absent from the court. And Hales remained in prison. The earl of Arundel now at liberty to go whither he would, and to be visited by whom he would. But yet he could not come to her majesty’s presence; although he was in hope so to do shortly.

Ditto, sir Thomas Chaloner, ambassador in Spain, was now to be called home. Which was intended a twelvemonth past, but prolonged hitherto upon the differences risen for stay of the intercourse. Which things were now come to some calm. He was to leave a secretary behind him, until one might be procured to go thither. Which was found hard to do, principally for the difference of religion. For else Mr. Henry Knolles should go. But the present thoughts among the privy counsellors was of sending Mr. John Hastings, or some such like, if they could find out a person of better estate.

If they might, they could be content to have their ambassador resident in the Low Countries, and none in Spain. For there nothing was negotiated at all.

Chaloner writ over concerning the ringing of a bell in Melilla in Aragon, without knowledge by whom, but of itself.

In the Christmas holydays the Spanish ambassador meant to feast the court, who had been long in beginning so to do; having example sufficient in the French ambassador; who very often of late had invited the earl of Leicester, and such as had accompanied him.

Such great amity was now between the French ambassador and Throgmorton, as was strange to see, considering the hate that Throgmorton had borne him.

CHAPTER 41.

Contest about ministers’ apparel. The queen’s letter thereupon.

Ministers cited before the commission. The advertisements.

Sampson and Humphrey of Oxford cited to Lambeth, with some ministers of London. THE contention about wearing the apparel prescribed to ministers by the queen’s Injunctions began early, namely, the gown, the square cap, and the tippet to those that were qualified, and, in their ministration, the surplice.

Many well meaning men, chiefly such as had lived in the churches abroad, (where they were not used,) utterly refused these habits, upon these grounds, that they were popish, and used by the priests in the idolatrous church of Rome, and invented by the pope, and a note of Antichrist. That they defiled the priesthood of Christ, as if it stood in need of shadows, when it was light itself. That they did not edify, but obscure the priesthood of Christ. That they increased pride and hypocrisy. That the commandment of garments and days was a tyranny. That they gave occasion to pomp.

That they were an human invention. That Polydore in his book derided those garments. That Paul commanded nothing concerning garments, when he mentioned the things required in a bishop. And that our Saviour saith, In vain do they worship me by the commandments of men. These were the sum of their arguments that first opposed the habits, as I collect them from some MSS. of secretary Cecyll’s. A few years after, Thomas Cartwright improved the arguments against the lawfulness of wearing them, viz. “That they were unmeet for a minister of the gospel to wear; and the surplice especially more than the other two, [i.e. cap and tippet,] because such hurtful ceremonies were so much more dangerous, as they did approach nearer the service and worship of God. That the papists had superstitiously used them, nay abominably abused them. That they had no use nor profit. And that they were hurtful, being monuments of idolatry. And some had taught, that pollution did stick to the things themselves; and that the wearing of them had power to pollute and make unclean the wearers.”

These charges and accusations of the habits enjoined, as they caused great wrangling and breach of peace among the clergy themselves; so the lay people were growing into an abhorrency of those that wore them, and of the service of God ministered by them. Insomuch that soon after, numbers of them refused to come to the churches or sermons, or to keep the ministers company, or salute them: nay, as Whitgift in his Defence writes, they spit in their faces, reviled them in the streets, and shewed such like rude behaviour towards them; and that only because of their apparel.

The queen understood these quarrels, and was much offended at this disobedience to her Injunctions, and the great disorders among the ministers on this occasion. Whereupon she wrote a letter, dated the 25th of January this year, to the archbishop; to take away all diversity among the clergy, as breeding nothing but contention and breach of common charity; and that he should peremptorily see order in the habits observed by all ecclesiastical persons throughout the churches of his province. And a letter of the like tenor she wrote to the archbishop of York for the other province.

Her letter was large and earnest: first setting forth how diversity, variety, contention, vain love of singularity, either in the ministers or the people, must needs provoke Almighty God, and was to her discomfortable, and brought. danger of ruin upon her people and country: that her earnest care and desire had been always to provide that her realm might be directed and governed by good laws and ordinances, both in ecclesiastical and civil polity, by public officers and ministers, following, as near as possibly might be, one rule, form, and manner of order: and directing her people to obey humbly, and live godly, according to their several callings, in unity and concord, without diversities of opinions, or novelty of rites and manners.

But that to her no small grief she heard, that in sundry places of late, for lack of regard given thereto by such superior officers as he, the archbishop, and other bishops of his province, with suffering of sundry varieties and novelties both in opinions, and especially exterior ceremonies, there was crept and brought into the church by a few persons, an open and manifest disorder and offence to godly, wise, and obedient persons: the inconvenience like to grow from place to place as by an infection, to the annoyance and deformity of the rest of the whole body; and to impair and deface Christian charity and unity.

That she had a good while heard sundry reports thereof; but did hope all could not be true, but mistrusted the adversaries of the truth might increase the report. And she thought that he, being primate and metropolitan, would have had regard thereto according to his office, with the assistance of the bishops his brethren; they having received charge of her for the same purpose, to put a stop to these differences, tending to schism and deformity. But that she had observed very lately, that the same began rather to increase than to stay or diminish. That therefore she, considering the authority given her of God for the defence of public peace and truth in the church, meant not any longer to suffer these evils thus to proceed, spread, and increase in her realm; but certainly determined to have all such diversities and novelties among the clergy and people, (breeding nothing but contention and offence, and being against the laws, good usages, and ordinances of the realm,) to be reformed and repressed, and brought to one manner of uniformity through the whole realm. That her people might quietly honour and serve Almighty God in truth and concord, peace and quietness.

Therefore she did by her letters require and enjoin, and straightly charge him, being the metropolitan, according to the power and authority that he had under her over the province of Canterbury, (as she would order the like for the province of York,) to confer with the bishops, such as were in commission for causes ecclesiastical; and also all other her officers and persons, having jurisdiction ecclesiastical, both in the universities and other places, exempt or not exempt; and to understand what varieties there were in the clergy, or among the people within every jurisdiction, either in doctrine or in ceremonies and rites of the church, or in the manners and behaviours of the clergy themselves: and thereupon, as the causes should require, to require reformation; and to proceed by orders, injunctions, or censures, according to appointment of laws and ordinances provided by act of parliament, and the true meaning thereof: and in time to come, charging him straightly, to provide and enjoin in her name, in all places of his province, that none hereafter be admitted into any office, cure, or place ecclesiastical, but such as should be found well disposed to common order; and before their admittance, should formally profess to use and exercise the same office, room, and place, to the honour of God, edification of the people under his charge in truth and concord; and also to keep and maintain such order and uniformity in all external rites and ceremonies, both for the church and for their own person, as by law and good usages were already allowed and well provided. And that if any superior officer were hereafter found disagreeable hereto, and so the archbishop’s authority not serve to reform them, that he should duly inform her thereof; to the end that she might give indelayed order for the same. For she would have none that maintained the same to remain in authority. And so the sovereign authority should be violated.

And she required him to use all expedition, as to such a cause was necessary, that hereafter she might not be occasioned, for lack of his diligence, to provide such other further remedy by some other sharp proceedings, as should percase not be easy to be borne by such as should be disordered; and withal impute to him the cause thereof. See this letter of the queen’s to the archbishop at full length in the Appendix to Bishop Parker’s Life, Book II. No. 24.

It was time for the archbishop, by such a letter as this was from his sovereign, to follow this cause. So within two days, he by his own letter to the bishop of London acquainted him with her commands: and charged him to signify the same to the rest of the bishops in his province, for the laws and ordinances established to be without delay executed: and that they should send up such of their clergy as would not comply with the habits and the other rites of the church. And to the said bishop of London he gave a particular charge for London; there being in that city and the suburbs the greatest number of ministers refusing the apparel, and they of the best learning of that sort.

In the mean time the archbishop, and the other bishops that were ecclesiastical commissioners, viz. London, Ely, Winchester, Lincoln, and others, sitting at Lambeth, had several of these refusers before them, and some of them of the universities. They argued gently with them, exhorted them to obey the orders of the church, and threatened them with deprivation in case of their standing out. But this business went on heavily among the bishops in their several dioceses, but especially in London; those here that opposed wearing the habits well knowing, that they had the earl of Leicester, sir Francis Knolles, and some others, their friends at court and council.

But at last, about the latter end of March 1564, the London ministers, together with those of the archbishop’s peculiars in the said city, and those of Southwark, were all cited before the ecclesiastical commissioners that sat at Lambeth. And there they were all peremptorily required to promise and subscribe conformity to the habits prescribed; which were, a long gown, close at the hands, and without any falling cape; dignitaries to wear tippets of sarcenet when they went abroad; and a cap, and no hats, but when they were in a journey: and likewise to the rites of the Common Prayer, the Thirty-nine Articles, and the queen’s Injunctions; or to be deprived within three months. And as most did subscribe at that time, so about thirty stood out, and were suspended. But many of these, within the three months, came in. The rest were actually deprived.

And in pursuance of the queen’s letter beforementioned, commanding the conformable behaviour of ministers, the archbishop, and some more of the bishops, especially those that were commissioners, drew up a book for all ministers to subscribe to; partly for due order in the public administration of the holy sacraments, and partly for apparel of all persons ecclesiastical.

It consisted of these articles: I. For doctrine and preaching. II. For administration of prayers and sacraments. III. For certain orders in ecclesiastical polity. IV. For outward apparel of persons ecclesiastical. V.

A form of protestation to be made, professed, and subscribed, by them that should be hereafter admitted to any office, room, or cure, in any church, or other place ecclesiastical. Which is the same with what was enjoined to ministers, anno 1560. All this book was signed and subscribed by the composers, the aforesaid metropolitan and bishops: whereof four were commissioners ecclesiastical. They designed this book should have been enforced upon the clergy, by getting the queen’s ratification, and as a book of decrees proceeding from her, by their advice and assent. But the queen declining to sign it, (however she had, in her foresaid letter to the archbishop, commanded him, with others of the commission ecclesiastical, to proceed by orders and injunctions, and in her name to enjoin them,) this labour of theirs lost much of its power and efficacy. But she was persuaded not to add her own immediate authority to the book by some great persons at court, because, upon their suggestion, she said, the archbishop’s authority and the commissioners alone were sufficient. And so instead of calling them articles or ordinances, they only named them advertisements.

They are set down in bishop Sparrow’s Collection.

These orders, (called now advertisements,) by the metropolitan and some ecclesiastical commissioners drawn up, if the queen had established them, would have had the strength of the law, by a proviso in the act for the Uniformity of the Common Prayer and Service: viz. “That if there should appear any contempt or irreverence to be used in the ceremonies or rites of the church, by misusing of the order appointed in that book, the queen might, by advice of her commissioners ecclesiastical, or the metropolitan, ordain and publish such further ceremonies and rites, as might be most for the advancement of God’s glory, the edifying of his church, and the due reverence of Christ’s holy mysteries and sacraments.”

By virtue of this clause, I suppose it was, the metropolitan framed these orders, in expectation of the queen’s interposing her authority to ordain them; which, without it, proved afterwards but weak and languid.

But by this spur to the bishops given them by the queen, as was shewn before, and by reason of the great nee